


In a Class of Your Own

by Celestial_Sphere



Category: Persona 5
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-07-16
Packaged: 2018-10-31 22:52:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 25,548
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10909113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Celestial_Sphere/pseuds/Celestial_Sphere
Summary: Love. Romance. Makoto could read all the books and journals on the topic and become well-versed in all the scientific world had to say about it. But no amount of intelligence nor reading could ever prepare her to succeed in understand this very foreign, very confusing emotion. Especially when it appeared suddenly in her life and made her fall head over heels for a street-smart, vulgar-mouthed blond one year her junior. And for the first time in her life, she finds herself suddenly faced with a situation where neither her bookworm knowledge nor her logic were of any help to her.





	1. Plea

**Author's Note:**

> Back with a guilty otp of mine while playing this lovely game. Ran with the idea of Ryuji thinking he needed to avoid summer school as much as possible to not conflict with "Thievin' Time" (Can I get a trademark of that? Thanks.) and begging Makoto to teach him a thing or two in time for exams. And we all know he'd be returning the favor to educate Makoto on some pretty basic things she was clueless on before ;) So please enjoy!

                Makoto’s dealt with a lot of new experiences before. But never in this multitude, let alone so quickly.

                Everything happened so fast. Almost illogical. Hell, very illogical when she paused and backtracked the subject from start to finish.

                Cognitive worlds. Distorted desires manifesting to make real, tangible places. Well, tangible to Phantom Thieves, the most insane part of it all.

                And her, on top of it, being one of them. The queen of the group too.

_Queen._

                She can’t help but smile at her homework as the warmth of the connection hits her. It’d been so long since she had friends. She had stopped counting to keep herself from sinking into despair from the depth of her loneliness. It had been difficult for some time with her sister always gone and their father dead, but she knew better to complain.

               Top of her class, gifted academically as well as in the arts, Makoto had always known she was what a lot of people either aspired to be or loathed for her vast accomplishments. And for a long time, she had thought it was all that mattered. Or maybe that too had been a lie she told herself to keep herself sane.

                It had been easy feigning ignorance and turning a blind eye to anything she didn’t want to believe existed. She was always moving forward -always following the path set before her. Her routine was once so cut and dry, her life void of any great excitement.

               But that was a life missing out on being alive- on figuring out what it really meant to be living in this crazy, chaotic planet where nothing was certain but complexity. Nothing was cut and dry. Nothing black and white. The whole world was a huge hue of gray tragically getting stained closer to black with every passing second.

               “Not for long.” She mutters to the empty dining room around her. “Justice is on our side.”

               And hopefully, so was fortune with exams looming not so far in the distance.

               While she had little to nothing to worry about, she hated to say the same couldn’t be said so easily about the other members of the group.

               As if on cue, her phone starts buzzing frantically on the wooden tabletop like an SOS siren. She reads Ryuji’s name appearing on the screen and puckers her lips. The bleach blond’s face hits her instantly, and she dreads what exactly the hotheaded, loose-lipped guy wanted from her this late into the evening.

               Still, she knows she’s in no position to decline. To hell with it. She’s more intrigued than she could ever be irritated. “Hello?”

               A brief moment of static fills her ear as the call connects. “Ah, Makoto, ya gotta help me! I’m beggin’ ya!”

               She rolls her eyes at his plea coming without hide nor hair of a greeting or any sort of pleasantry to butter her up. “If this is in regards to exams, Ryuji, I’m afraid if you don’t have the stamina to concentrate on studying, I’ll be of little to no help to you.”

               “I’m trying!” The exasperated whine cuts into the receiver of her smartphone. “Really. Ya know that I have to do, er, decent on them so we can, y’know do what needs to be done! I can’t be out raidin’ Palaces if my ass has to be stuck in summer school. Besides, I wanna show the others I’m not just a numskull.” His almost tangible sadness strikes a chord in her empathetic heart. “Or maybe I’m just a numbkull for even thinkin’ I could be anything else.”

               Makoto pinches the bridge of her nose and sighs at length. He made it hard to say no. Not that she had really been planning on it from the beginning. While she was smart and often took her intellect for granted, she had to remember not everyone breezed through academically. And Ryuji was right on top of it all. It would hard to function as Phantom Thieves if members of the group started being unable to participate for any reason.

               “Very well.” She acquiesces, only to jerk the phone away from her ear when he explodes with excitement on the other end. “But I cannot make you any promises about having you receive any high marks with the short amount of time I have at my disposal.”

               He chuckles dryly. “Don’t really think it would be possible even if ya did. Well,” His mood lifts immediately. “Thanks. Really. Only real question is where we should do this.”

              “Wouldn’t the school library suffice?”

              “Ehhh...” He sounds a little nervous. “Don’t really want any of the others catching wind about this. Not to mention the whole school would practically flip their shit making up crazy rumors. The class president hangin' round a class clown? They’d eat that shit up like crazy.”

               She rolls her eyes and mutters under her breath. “And you think they wouldn’t if they saw us outside of school alone and together?”

               “Hm? Whaddya say?”

               “Nothing.” She lies with an edge of exasperation. “Where do you plan on us meeting? Or did you even think so far in advance?”

               “Hey, I may be a dipshit, but I’m not brainless.” He counters irritably. “There’s a hidden little coffee shop a few stops off the orange line in Ikebukuro. I’ll buy ya a drink and pay half the fair. So that way you get somethin’ out of this too. So? Is it a deal?”

                Ikebukuro? She tries not to frown. Transferring trains, not to mention the crowds… It seemed more of a hassle than anything.

                But if Ryuji had made up his mind, it seemed there was no making conditions on accepting the deal.

               “Fine.” She knows she sounds less than excited about agreeing, but hopefully he would focus on the fact that she was agreeing at all. “I’ll take you up on the offer, Ryuji.”

               He cheers again. “Awesome! Well, I guess we’ll pay it by ear as we get through this shit with the Metaverse. But if ya ever feel like you’re not up to it, just let me know. I ain’t gonna force a girl to ever do anything she didn’t want to.”

               She rolls her eyes again. “Until later then.”

               He ends the call with an upbeat farewell that she echoes back a little less than enthusiastic. Ryuji was a nice guy. Stupid academically, but street smart with a good heart to fuel him. She smooths a hand against her forehead. Sometimes it added a little too much fuel to the fire and blinded him to reason. But a deal was a deal.

               “Think of it as a challenge.” She tries to inspirit herself. “Who knows? Maybe Ryuji might even teach us a thing or two we didn’t know before.”

  
**  
                While Makoto dreaded the whole secretive study sessions at the beginning, with time, she actually started to realize there was nothing at all to worry about.

                 If anything, she started looking forward to them.

                Ryuji made slow progress. Some days, none at all. Still, he was trying, often to the point of exasperation to retaining nothing, and she appreciated his obvious effort more so than his actual aptitude improving. Language would never be his forte- a quite obvious statement from his mannerisms and inability to even speak in anything other than colloquial slang- but he had some hope in history and basic mathematics. His scores would be frown-able even with the small help she seemed to offer, but he seems to be cheerful for any fraction of improvement as it came.

               He’s chatty one afternoon as they occupy their usual table in a quiet corner of the coffee shop’s second floor. “Y’know you don’t have to always get that.” He gestures to the plain iced coffee perspiring in a glass cup to her right. “I mean, I’m not the richest guy out there, but ya can get whatever ya want. Deal’s a deal, after all.”

               Her cheeks rogue. She had been looking only at the prices when they first came here, knowing it wasn’t right to buy some heavily sugary concoction a few dollars more expensive when a simple drink would suffice. Ryuji’s circumstances were simple at best from what Ann had informed her. Sad, really. A dead-beat father who had walked out on his family, a single mom left to work and raise a child on her own, not to mention the guy watching multiple men come and go from his life without any semblance of permanence to them.

               Hers hadn’t been much better. Odd, how much the two of them really had in common. Maybe that was why she tolerated him more so than Yusuke. Her mother dead shortly after giving birth to her, a policeman for a father killed in duty not long afterwards… thank god she had had Sae there. Though even now her sister was beginning to lose her permanence in her life.

              “This is best.” She extends a hand to take the cup into her hold. “It’s only a coincidence that the price per ounce is also the lowest for it as well.”

               He grins. “Shouldn’t have expected anything else from the good old class prez. Always putting mind before matter. But I’m feelin’ generous today.” He rubs at his one of his shoulders, grin still plastered on his cheerful features. “So how about a slice of cake? Or maybe one of those fruit parfait things girls are always yammerin’ over to keep their calories in count or whatever?”

               She averts her eyes while taking a sip of her drink. “You really don’t have to.”

              “I know, but I wanna.” He goads her with a sweep of his hand. “And your pick is?”

              “Cake.” She blurts out without thinking, only to feel mortified to her core. She dips her chin and tries to hide her embarrassed expression for choosing the ungirly option, even if it had been what she really wanted out of the two. “Chocolate, please.”

                He returns promptly with a hefty slice on a simple porcelain plate and two forks. “Don’t worry.” He comments when she looks at the duplicate utensils. “Stupid barista must’ve thought we were sharin’. It’s all yours.”

               “Thank you.” She can’t help but feel silly when he takes away one of the forks and slides the cake to her end of the two person table. “That was very kind.”

                “You’re way too formal.” He laughs. “Come on, Makoto. Learn to let loose sometimes. It won’t kill ya to I dunno, act like a teenager for once.”

                 She says nothing. The whole teenage thing was a foreign topic. She knew nothing about letting loose. After all, there had been no time in her life when such a thing had been allowed.

                “Ya really don’t know how.” He breathes in disbelief as the uncomfortable silence speaks worlds on its own. “Do ya?”

                 She stiffens. It was a laughable, terrible truth. Eiko had been right. An old man in a girl’s body was exactly what she was. So what? Was it such a horrific crime to be an old soul? To like history, books, and classical music, and not be lost in a world of dizzying hormones, impulsive behavior, raunchy music?

                “I’m sorry that I’m…. different.” Her eyes burn with mortified tears. “But I’m trying my best to adapt to everyday life.”

                 He waves his hands hastily in the space above the table. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with ya. Shit.” He slumps uncomfortably. “Always sayin' what I shouldn’t. I’m a fuckin dumbass.”

                “It’s not your fault.” She murmurs. “I just think of it as having a lot to experience.”

                “Yeah.” He seems to brighten slightly under her optimism. “Good thinkin’. World’s full of awesome shit. Like video games, and music, and sports, and y’know… whatever!” He grins. “See! Maybe I could even help ya out.”

               “What do you mean?”

              “Experiencin’ teen shit.” Ryuji leans back in his chair and grins from ear to ear. “If I’m good at anythin’, it’s that.”

               She didn’t have to even think twice about agreeing with him. Bleached blond hair, rebellious attitude, rule breaking uniform attire, late night video game binging sessions… Ryuji was by far a model case of what it meant to be a regular teenage boy.

               She breaks off another piece of the cake and nibbles in contemplation. Sure, she had been wanting to step out of her comfort zone, but he had been the last person on her mind. Well, Yusuke would have been but he wasn’t even an option. He was as odd as he was eccentric. Not that she could blame him. He was as normal as they came in the artist world.

               Still, Ryuji? She can’t help but feel nervous. Akira had been kind on the rare occasion she had mustered up the courage to ask for his help, but she knew he had his hands full. Being leader of the Phantom Thieves, balancing a public and private life, not to mention maybe even a romantic one too… he was a busy guy with a heart of gold.

               Which exactly why she admired him. Liked him romantically even.

                Just like Ann.

                It was no surprise that the blonde, foreign-born girl liked the tall, lanky leader of their group. In all honesty, they made a nice pair. Ann, so bubbly and girly, was a nice contrast to the calm, handsome Akira despite Morgana’s obvious dismay. And hers too if she was being honest. But she understood it was best this way. Like Eiko also pointed out, she would stumble and flunk her way out of anything dealing with love- the most foreign, confusing, frightening of all the topics teenagers were forced to encounter.

                One she dreaded as much as she did secretly hope it would actually happen in her life too.

                “I guess… it would be nice.” She acquiesces hesitantly. “Only if you truly wish to take on such an endeavor on my behalf.”

                 He gives an energetic thumb’s up to reassure her he was up for the challenge. “Course. It’d be my pleasure. Hell yeah!” He wiggles with excitement. “I can think of a hundred things right off the bat I wanna show ya.”

                “While I’m delighted to hear you so energetic about the topic, the real thing you should be focusing your energies on is your studying.” She points her fork in the direction of the papers he’s completely abandoned in his enthusiasm. His joyful form quickly grows dejected and slumped over. “No buts. This comes before anything else. That was our original deal and what should propel us forward.”

                “Yeah, yeah.” He grumbles while picking up his pencil again. “Buzzkill.”


	2. Present

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello to all! As I'm sure you all are aware, this fic will contain spoilers to the P5 plot and maybe even the social links for Ryuji/Makoto respectively. So you've been warned. Thanks to everyone for the kind kudos. Please enjoy!

                Ryuji makes good on his promise during the time they have at their disposal to educate the school smart girl on the delights lingering in the world all around them.

                Makoto remembers vividly all of the experiences. So many firsts wrapped up into so short a time. A warm array of activities she should have known would turn to heartache one day.

                He takes her to a CD store. Ryuji had energetically encased her ears in the first available pair of big headphones and flipped through band after band like a whirlwind of musical knowledge. She had honestly liked more of it than she initially anticipated. So much so that she asked him to jot down the name of a few of the bands so she could purchase a few CDs to listen to on her train ride to school and back. And what amazed her the most was the giddy, almost childlike excitement on his face when she had asked.

                She actually asks about a video game one day and he’s lightning quick to offer to take her to a game store to scour for a copy of it. The national philharmonic had done the entirety of its soundtrack, and in all honesty, the game design itself along with the plot-line had captured her attention endlessly since reading the online thread about it. And when they do find a copy, Ryuji goads her into buying it with the stipulation that she come over to his house and play it so he could help her with battle strategies and game mechanics in general. Makoto agrees without realizing what it is she’s agreed to.

                It’s the first time she’s ever been into a guy’s house. Well, she’s been to Akira’s before, but it had always been with the others and Leblanc was a café before it could ever be considered a house. She’s not sure what to expect, but Ryuji’s oddly kind and considerate. He takes the game system out of his room and hooks it up to the television in their meager family room talking up the other half of the room spilt with the kitchen so they could sit in an open space without any awkward situations occurring. At first, he sits on the couch cushion two to her right, but with time, he starts occupying the space right next to her to goad- or more realistically, yell- instructions into her ear.

                She meets his mother on the rare occasion that she loses track of time and stays a little later in the evening than anticipated. Miss Sakamoto is kind, if not obviously exhausted from what was sure to be long, tiring hours of work to keep a roof over their heads and food in her growing son’s mouth, and grateful for the girl’s friendship with her son. Ryuji gushes about how she was the student council president and a variety of her other strengths- often things she hadn’t noted herself- and it’s humbling, if not a little embarrassing, to hear him sing her glories when she knew she had done little to deserve such lofty compliments.

                After all, she had started to see a lot of good qualities in Ryuji she doubted he realized he had. Funny, energetic, a catchy storyteller, and in all honesty, a really tenderhearted person with a steely sense of justice. Maybe not the most suave, or a deep philosopher, but he obviously contemplated things even if he was prone to overthinking things more often than not. Or not thinking at all.

                She starts smiling when his name lights up the screen of her phone. Of course, only when she was alone. And when they’re infiltrating the Metaverse, she starts finding her eyes drifting over to him to take him in. Sometimes, even when they’re in battle, and she cuts that habit out as soon as it happens. His name fills her head as it becomes daily used or seen, and sometimes, his face even flits across her thoughts on the nights when she has trouble falling asleep.

                And then exams happen, more exploring of Kaneshiro’s palace occurs, and the odd routine between them comes to an end. Ryuji seems none the worse for wear for it, but she feels empty. Lonely even. A nostalgic pang hits her when she goes to the train station in the afternoon and she knows she won’t be going to the coffee shop in Ikebukuro with him anymore.

                A sudden warmth explodes over her chest that evening as she sits down to eat dinner alone in the large, empty apartment. Her phone’s buzzing, and Ryuji’s name is on the screen again. Finals results were posted, and she hadn’t looked to see his lest she feel terrible for doing nothing to help him.

                “I PASSED!” He shouts into the receiver as soon as she picks up. “Oh hell yeah! I mean, shit, barely passed and I still have one sesh of summer school, but I dropped two! We did it!”

                “Congratulations.” She praises him with heartfelt honesty. “And _we_ did nothing. It was all you.”

                “Yeah right.” He laughs joyfully. “Ya know I would have flunked my ass in every subject if ya didn’t help me. I gotta do somethin’ to thank ya! This is effin’ unbelievable.”

                She blushes and fidgets in her chair. “No need. You’ve done so much for me already.”

                “Nah.” He pushes. “I gotta thank ya. Really. Hmm… oh! How about tomorrow?”

                “What about tomorrow?”

                He chuckles. “Not sayin’. Just meet me at the train station after school. Ya don’t have student council duties, right?”

                “No.” She’s amazed he remembered they didn’t meet on Tuesdays or Thursdays.

                “Perfect! Then I’ll see you then.”

                And he clicks the line shut before she can put in another word.

                Makoto stares at her now dim phone screen and slumps over. “Guess I’ll just have to wait until then to find out.”

**

                “Yo!” He lifts a hand in greeting when she ambles over slowly to where he’s waiting in the maddening throng of people inside of Aoyame Station. Despite the crowd, it hadn’t been difficult to find him. Punk blond in a bright red shirt and Shingen’s obnoxious plaid pants? It was like finding a colorful flower in a field of gray grass. “Ready to go?”

                She adjusts the straps on her schoolbag and gives him a calculating look. “And where exactly are you taking me?”

                “Secret.” He winks. “Come on! We’re burnin’ daylight. Let’s go!”

                He nudges her onto the platform outbound to Shibuya and they’re whisked into the busy central hub outside the station. People flood the street in every direction, the crosswalks were congested and often nauseating to maneuver across, and in all honesty, Makoto wants nothing than to go home and sit in the comfortable silence of her empty apartment in solitude. Despite living in Tokyo for her entire life, she had never grown to enjoy the crowds or noise the densely populated, overly busy capital held.

                “M’kay.” Ryuji’s to her left, hugging close to not take up too much space in the smaller side streets branching off from where they had come off the central area. “We’re gonna take a left up ahead. Nope not here. Past the alley aaaand…” He halts outside the arcade. “Here we are!”

                She eyes the cramped building with some reluctance. “The arcade?”

                “Yeah, the arcade. What, are ya blind?” He snorts. “Come on. Ya wanted to try a virtual reality game and they _just_ installed one last week. So? You game?”

                She tries not to laugh at the humorous pun he unintentionally made. “I suppose since we’re already here it would be a shame not to experience it.”

                He pushes their way through the small corridors lines with vintage games, first person shooters, air hockey, and various other arcade staples to the already bustling line waiting to play at the trio of new VR game booths. Makoto cringes when she gets closer and realizes they’re all the same horror game. She’d been a scaredy cat all of her life. God knew what a huge irony that was considering how cool- and she’d admit it, bossy- she often was traversing through Palaces fighting shadows without batting an eyelash. But in real life, where she couldn’t hide behind a mask, it was hard to realize she was anything but a teenage girl with a never-ending list of fears and worries that ate away at her from the inside out.

                 Ryuji plants the VR helmet on her head with a little more enthusiasm than she expected and hands her the wand for basic commands in one hand and the plastic gun in the other. She listens, a little uneasy as the VR set not only covered her eyes but her ears as well, to him mutely inputting the odd amount of yen it took to play a round, and she almost jumps out of her skin when the system whirs to life and prompts her to choose her difficultly level. She shakily works her way through the short tutorial and finds herself plunged in a post-apocalyptic world littered with mangled corpses, empty forests, and eerie sounds echoing all around her.

                _This’ll be a breeze_. She tells herself while beginning her hunt for clues as to the survivor’s whereabouts. _I’ve taken on monsters in virtual realities much more real and dangerous than a hologram of a reanimated corpse._

She fails.

                Terribly.

                Ryuji’s shouting encouragements soon turn to exasperated comments of how she could have missed an easy kill or only grazed an incoming zombie attacker. Makoto’s shaking, so wrapped up in the fake reality the world engulfed her senses in, and barely had enough mental strength to balance listening to him and the in-game sounds screeching her impending doom all at once. One wrong move and she’d jerk the VR headset right off and speed out of the arcade in panicked tears.

                “Take a deep breath.” His deep-voiced comment echoes inside her right ear with ease despite the bulky accessory drowning out everything a moment before. He’s pressed up right behind her now, gripping her hand holding the gun in his own to keep the aim level and steady. “There ya go. Now get your ass up that hill missy. We still got one bar of health in us. Ain’t no effin’ way we’re throwing in the towel now.”

                Makoto can’t concentrate. At least, not on the game. Ryuji’s close. Very close. Too close. She can feel his chest taking oddly even breaths in and out against her back. His breath sends the hairs on the back-right section of her neck dancing forwards and backwards, tickling her skin with little warm bursts. And his hand- god, was hers really that small and delicate in comparison? Or had his always been his strong and large?- pulsating its heat over hers and the plastic gun now clutched in a deathly grip to redirect the shot as needed as he watched on from the projector emitting her simulation out into the arcade.

                And the game fails in a minute flat as she fails to move in time with his commands as a zombie overtakes her.

                “Damn.” He clicks his tongue while taking the wand and plastic gun out of her grip. She lifts her hands to hastily slide off the VR helmet and discards it back on its holder with a little more energy than necessary. Her whole face is burning. Her hearts hammering. And it’s not from a rush of adrenaline due to playing the game.

                It was Ryuji. Or more importantly, the feeling of his body pressing against her own. A feeling, that, while pleasurable, freaked the shit out of her.

                “So effin’ close.” He gives her a well-meant thumb’s up. “But that was pretty good for your first time. Shouldn’t expect anything less from the queen, huh?”

                Her whole face heats to an ungodly temperature. Ryuji had always used her code-name jokingly, but this was the first time she had gotten so flustered hearing it leave his lips. Why? What the hell was going on with her?

                He cocks his head to give her a concerned look when her dazed features elicit no response. “Hey, you ok?”

                “Huh?” She says a little stupidly, only to realize she’d been lost in her own thoughts under his scrutiny. “Y-yes. It was just… a jarring experience.”

                He nods enthusiastically. “It totally sucks you in. Like holy shit. They weren’t kidding when they say ya feel like you’re really in another world.”

                _Still kind of feels like I’m in another world._ Makoto can’t help but fret. _This can’t be reality. It can’t._

“Alright.” Ryuji rubs his hands together and points to the entrance of the arcade. “Our time’s up. How bout we head out and grab a drink? I got parched kicking some zombie ass.”

                He leads the way to the 711 literally two storefronts down. Makoto follows a little behind, overly conscious of maintaining space between them. Her heart’s still hammering. Her mind still in a daze. She’d never felt this way. Never reacted in such a manner. Not that such a situation had ever occurred before. Well, Akira had taken her to the arcade the first time she had ever expressed interest in exploring one, but that had been different. Completely different. Safe. Fun.

                As had all the experiences with Ryuji leading up to this one.

                Then why of all times had this one had to be so frightening in the sense of being a singular experience?

                She gets herself a large bottle of water and almost drains the entirety of it the moment they step outside of the convenience store. Ryuji side-eyes her the whole time but says nothing. She knows he thinks she’s being odd, but hell, she couldn’t remember how to act normal for the life of her. Which is what bothered her more than the fact that she had plunged head deep into unknown territory without even realizing it.

                “Damn.” Ryuji halts just past the shady looking back alley and sniffs the air filled with the smell of fresh baked goods wafting off the corner crepe shop a few yards ahead. “Smells delicious.”

                “Mm.” She’s more agreeing to his energetic response than anything else. “It does.”

                “Well then, that settles it!” He turns to give her a lopsided smile. “Last little thanks for helping me pass.”

                Her eyes widen. “There’s really no need.”

                “Yeah, yeah.” He waves her away as he moves to join the tail end of the line waiting to get a crepe. “That wasn’t a question. So decide which flavor ya want by the time we get up there.”

                She dips her chin and asks for the strawberry chocolate chip combination. Ryuji laughs and comments that he should have seen it coming. Makoto can’t help but have mixed feelings as he orders and pays. It’s so odd. All of him from his bleached hair to his rebellious pseudo school uniform. But yet, so right. And real. And lovely.

                _Love_. The sudden realization shakes her like a mental earthquake. Everything explodes to chaos within her as the word lingers and registers. _Am I falling in love with him?_

An incredulous laugh bubbles in her throat only to be cut down by the bile quickly rising instead.   

                No.

                No way on this earth _she_ could ever…

                She wants to cry as every sign cuts her whiny disbelief to nothingness.

                Yep.

                She had fallen in love with him. Not Akira like she once daydreamed, but him. Loud, obnoxious, rowdy Ryuji.

                A terrible, earth-sized truth that was laughable as it was pitiful.

                The student council president and a class clown dating?

                She can’t help but blink back mortified tears as she nibbles slowly on the crepe, suddenly lacking any desire to finish the warm dessert. Everyone would laugh. Everyone. Especially their friends.

                Oh god. It’s almost depressing imagining their forms bent over in laughter once the sheer disbelief processed. She presses her lips together. Not that she would dare speak a word of it to anyone.

                After all, she wasn’t a hundred percent sure _what_ she felt for him.

                Or more importantly and most frightening of all, she had no idea what Ryuji really thought about her.

                He chomps down the majority of her crepe when she hands it off to him with a meek comment about being full. And then he walks her back to the train station, takes the main line to his own station, and Makoto returns home, still lost in a confusing daze, to cook dinner for her sister sure to arrive home this evening disheveled and irritable from long hours of work with probably little success.


	3. Balance

                Makoto tells herself that with time, the emotions would fade and everything would go back to normal.

                She gives it days. Weeks even.

                But there’s nothing. No diminishing heart palpitations, no end to the strange dreams, and especially no end of the awkward, overly flustered responses to anything or everything dealing with Ryuji.

                If anything, it only grew with her paranoia and skyrocketed with Kaneshiro’s treasure finally in sight.

                They’ve all gathered in an outer walkway of Shibuya Station trying to look as nonchalant as always. She’s not sure how a group of five high schoolers from two completely different academies could ever look relaxed or up to anything other than trouble, but for the most part, they really don’t attract any lingering attention from the crowds that whiz by all around them. The five stay and chat for some time, most killing time with small talk until the crowds have thinned enough for them to discuss the true topic gathering them all together so shortly after returning from the Palace only two nights before.

                “Guess all that’s left to do is send the calling card.” Ann says while shifting her eyes from part of the walkway to another while pretending to read something on her phone. “Only problem is how are we going to deliver it if we don’t know where Kaneshiro really is?”

                Yusuke hums. “Indeed. Unlike any of the other suspects, actually ensuring he reads the card will prove to be difficult.”

                “Perhaps.” Makoto nibbles on a dry edge of skin around her thumb and looks at her feet when the others all look at her expectantly. “Though I suppose I have a plan of sorts.”

                “Guess we should follow her lead then.” Ryuji’s quick to accept her unspoken plan of sorts. Her heart rams against the front of her ribcage at his almost instantaneous belief in her. “I’ll make the card and have her help me with wordin’ it. Sound good?”

                “Just be careful.” Akira cautions in his ever calm, ever steady voice.

                “Oh yeah!” Ryuji cheers, almost causing a scene on the station walkway. The rest of the group shoots him a look and he suddenly hushes. “Whoops.” He scuffs his foot against the pavement. “Well,” He turns to grin at Makoto. Her insides warm almost instantly from the look directed solely at her. “Guess it’s up to us then. Let’s get goin’.”

                “Very well.” She fidgets with her school bag and gives the others a calm smile deceptive of the chaos within. “We’ll send word once we’ve finished.”

                “Be careful you two.” Ann gives her and Ryuji a worried look over. “Really.”

                Ryuji laughs lightly, clearly unaffected by the sheer magnitude of the task before him. “We’ll be just fine.”

                “So long as she’s with him, I’m inclined to believe it to be true.” Yusuke comments with a nod. “Had it been otherwise I would not have been so certain.”

                Ryuji grumbles something under his breath as he and Makoto take the train to the station and hurry to the quiet sanctuary of his house. She hates to admit it, but the tall artist had been right. As much as she liked the blond, he could easily become a whirlwind of chaos if left to his own devices. It was like his mind shut out all reason and only fueled him on instinctual evidence or actions that often caused more harm than help in those stressful situations.

                They sit in the common room where some video games once demanded their attention to instead hone their attention on the serious task before them. Ryuji’s very much talented with manufacturing the actual card itself, though he’s very much lacking the actual linguistic intelligence to craft the text pivotal to having Kaneshiro’s heart be moved enough to have his treasure manifest and the deed be done.

                “Y’know,” Ryuji puts in as she proofreads the statement of attack by the Phantom Thieves one more time. She glances briefly up from her work to see his amused grin before quickly averting her gaze back to the computer before her. “It’s kinda funny. How you and me are like two halves that could make a good whole.”

                Her ears burn. “What do you mean?”

                “I mean that you’re good at stuff I suck at, and vice versa.” She sees him waving towards the laptop out of the corner of her eye. “So it evens out. Makes everythin’ equal.”

                She shakes her head lightly. “If you mean to say that we play off one another’s strengths, then yes, I would be inclined to agree.”

                “Right?” He laughs in amazement. “Funny... when you first joined, I thought you’d turn your nose up at us and think you were too good to hang out with the group in real life. But man, was I wrong. It’s great havin’ someone with brains finally join the team.”

                “Thank you.” She replies a little awkwardly, unsure if he meant it as a compliment or not. “I’m very lucky to have met all of you.”

                “Aww geez, it’s too early to be getting’ sentimental.” He laughs again. “Let’s kick Kaneshiro’s ass and celebrate with everyone.”

                They finish the card very late into the evening. Ryuji’s mother came home in frame of time and sends the pair into a panic. Both of them stammer their way through a very important project for school Ryuji had needed her help to complete, much to her obvious skepticism and concern for Makoto being here so late in the evening. But she gives them both a tiny smile and makes her son promise to have the studious teen safely on the last train so her family wouldn’t worry. There’s an unspoken comment about _what_ her family might be worried about- Makoto can’t help but make the connection of his mother fretting that there would be some sort of unspoken assumption that her family would believe she was staying late for more unseemly reasons- but Ryuji’s cheerful agreement makes it clear she’s the only one who’s read in between the lines.     

                They print out massive copies of the card, hurry into a few undercover- Makoto can only laugh at the half-assed, but obviously decent deceptive accessories she and the blond adorn- outfits of sorts, and head to Shibuya. She deduced that the easiest way to reach Kaneshiro was from the bottom up. All his lackeys seemed to infest the inner central hub around the station, and if word was spread deep enough in this area, there was no way that word or the actual card itself wouldn’t be delivered straight to him.

                It’s a slight stakeout of sorts that takes patient time and mental duress to endure. Ryuji’s grown impatient, but he does as he’s asked and successfully plasters row after row of calling cards in the dark pockets of alleys they had met Kaneshiro’s subordinates before. Then they hurry off, back to the station, and stand side by side in a quiet corner waiting for the next set of trains to come in.

                “Y'look worried.” Ryuji comments as she nibbles on her thumb as she was prone to do when her nerves got the best of her. “What’s wrong?”

                The sheer realization of if the plan failed hit her on the walk here. Three million yen. If they didn’t succeed and getting the news to this mischievous, disgusting creep who targeted and exploited high schoolers, he’d be coming after her for that copious amount of cash. He already had blown up her phone since this whole blasted predicament began, taunting her, tormenting her, promising to do nothing but make her and Sae’s life a living hell.

                Not to mention the photo of the others would be sent viral as well and their whole identity as Phantom Thieves might very well be exposed too.

                “Forgive me.” She mutters. “My fears just got the best of me for a moment.”

                “Ain’t got nothin’ to be afraid of.” She almost jumps three feet in the air when he smooths an arm over her shoulders in a half-formed hug of sorts. “We got this.”

                The others are all abuzz as to how it all went later in the evening, and it’s almost strange seeing Ryuji praise her intellect and give almost the entirety of the credit to her for the night going the way it had. He had been so kind to her. So willing to follow her direction despite his obvious desire to hasten through everything to say the deed was done. It was making her heart cave harder and faster than it ever had before. And she knew one day soon there would be no hiding it. Which scared her even more than their imposing battle with Kaneshiro’s shadow when morning broke.

**

                 Makoto came to hold everything in.

                _Don’t let them see._ She’d chant to herself as she tried to go about her now normal routine balancing life as the class president as well as acting as an active member of the Phantom Thieves. _Don’t let him see. He doesn’t love you. This is foolishness. Madness. Forget it. Push it all down. Pretend it never existed._

There’s more than enough to distract her for the time being. News had surfaced about Akira’s guardian of sorts being accused of child abuse and the mysterious Alibaba who had contacted the teen himself about the girl in question. Everyone’s hesitant- they’d all met Sojiro and though him a welcoming sort of man who was a little more serious than most but never cold or cross with the teens who came to invade his café often. But it was hard not saying there was a _slight_ possibility, despite their leader’s very firm belief in his character, that such a thing could be possible.

                But with time, and the unearthing of Futaba’s past, they realize he is no culprit despite her own sister’s provocations trying so vehemently to make it appear so. Makoto swallows her sister’s almost underhanded methods of squeezing information out of Sojiro by throwing a false accusation his way with a sinking stomach. Sae had changed so much- so much that she almost didn’t recognize her own sister anymore.

                But if anything worries Makoto about the situation, it’s not her sister but Sojiro’s ward herself.

                After all, who in their right mind would ever ask to have their own Palace invaded and their heart changed?

                It’s a tricky ordeal. Especially with Futaba being a recluse who refused to leave her room let alone speak to anyone other than Akira through the messenger. Not to mention Medjed who was declaring war on them if they didn’t halt their actions. The sheer magnitude of the tasks before them loomed higher and more impossible to scaled than Mount Fuji. So much so that Makoto could hardly sleep at night as the never-ending worries ate away at her from the inside out.

                She starts staying up late into the night, watching her favorite movies or listening to the bands Ryuji had introduced to her all those months ago. Any small reminder of him made her heart cry and wail to be acknowledged within her, but she knew it to be as foolish as anything could be at this point in time. She had seen how he was around women. The only ones who ever caught his attention were the ones whose body could catch the eye. Which hers never had nor would be.

                It’s mortifying the first day they ever invaded Futaba’s Palace and the heat of the desert caused them all to perspire to the point that their school uniform’s clung skin tight to them all. She and Ann occupied the front seat of Morgana’s miraculous transformation into a cat car, and she remembered the flicker of jealousy and anger that her shot through her veins as Ann tried to unstick her shirt from her chest while all three of the guys in the back watched on with hungry gazes. But nothing stings worse than when Ryuji leans forward to get a closer look only to be punched back into his seat by Ann herself.

                Makoto looks down at her petite, almost unshapely form and feels stupid when the urge to cry overwhelms her. He’d never look at her that way. She’d never have Ann’s beautiful hair, her girly mannerisms, or her foreign looks that made her form as beautiful and admirable as it was to the opposite sex. A beautiful exotic flower. Her heart once energized by love and excitement suddenly slows and grows cold as the disparity between them grew. Why would anyone ever want a weed pretending to be a flower when they could have that?

                But despite knowing Ryuji’s preference, her heart did not give up. She had always been a dreamer despite being raised as a realist. She saw that unspoken ideology in all of her favorite movies and books. That those who did good received it in kind at the end of it all. That if a love was real, or someone’s heart true enough, looks didn’t matter. No obstacle could stand in the way of justice, truth, or any valiant feeling that stemmed from a pure desire of some sort. Nothing could stop someone on the path leading them onward to bigger and better things.

                With that to inspirit herself, Makoto finds her old self returning. She finds her motivation again and keeps her sister or the school from thinking her lacking in her title as class president. Even if she did like Ryuji to the point of wanting to be affectionate, she kept it to herself promising that one day- someday soon maybe- there would be a chance for such a thing to actually become reality.


	4. Blow

               They explore Futaba’s palace with more urgency than any of the other Palaces before. It’s a tricky environment. True to its form in reality, the Egyptian pyramid is chalk full of traps, puzzles, and random passages of trickery to keep any weak of heart or mind either outside of it or trapped within it forever. But despite its deceptive design, the six high-school heroes traverse the dangerous mazes and unearth its mysteries, climbing their way out of the depths to unlock higher and higher levels within it to inch ever closer to the treasure held at its pinnacle.

                But the shadows here are cunning. Strong. Deceptive. So many had defenses unlike any they had ever encountered, and gaining ground becomes difficult the deeper into the catacomb they delve.

                Makoto feels the stench of death heavy in the air when they become surrounded by three very powerful shadows formed out of Egyptian mythology itself. They had barely any weaknesses. And the ones

                Akira tries to manage the group and the odds begin to turn in their favor. But one wrong move and someone may very well be struck down. They all had to be careful. With their supplies almost nonexistent, there was no chance to flee and make it out in one piece too.

                Makoto keeps strong, relying on Johanna’s strength to blast the shadows out as far as she could. Morgana’s wind attacks also help buffer the enemies into the distance, and it seems they have a little bit of footing as the shadows are forced to retreat farther out from the aftereffects of their magical blasts. But they were all weak in body and spirit. If one honed in on that, they were goners.

                It all happens so quickly. Too quickly.

                She sees the statue summoning a powerful attack over at Ryuji. He’s battered and barely holding on. The attack, even with his defenses as well rounded as they were, would surely kill him.

_Kill him._

                The two words stick in her mind as he watches with fearful eyes full of knowledge to the impending fatal blow. And as if on instinct her body moves, shoves his out of the way, and as the shock paralyzes every ounce of her body, the bright light quickly fades to a dark, silent world where nothing existed other than never-ending space. 

                But like surfacing from some deep paralyzing sleep, Makoto comes to gasping for breath, trembling like a leaf. The smell of smoke fills her nose, and every part of her aches unbearably. She has no energy to move. No voice to scream. All she can do is will herself to crack an eye open and hazily takes in the panicked gaze of Ryuji kneeling just before her.

                And those eyes, realizing hers were now open, suddenly morph to hold an emotion he’d never gazed at her with before.

                “Makoto?” He says so softly it feels almost tender. “Can you hear me?”

                His gloved hand suddenly registers on her cold cheek. If the situation had been different, her heart might screamed in delight for the touch. But she can’t feel anything but fatigue- deep, unshakable exhaustion that felt like multiple sleepless nights compounded into one moment- and pain. A searing, throbbing pain that almost turned her into a wailing mess had she had the strength to make a sound.

                “She’s injured severely.” Yusuke puts in with obvious anxiety. “Joker, we must retreat and get her out of the Metaverse.”     

                “Of course.” Their leader can clearly see her distress and puts her well-being over progressing any more that day. “Mona, the Goho-M gem. Get us out of here right now.”

                The cat doesn’t hesitate to act, and with a poof of smoke and a strange out-of-body experience, they’re all transported to the ghastly hot desert just outside the Palace. Makoto feels the grains of sand pushing into her cheek, cradling her limp body, and the heat of the unrelenting sun pulsating down on them all, but can’t react to any of it. Like a ragdoll, she felt too tired to move or act on her own. All she wanted was to hear the nav app thanking them for their work and this debilitating feeling of sickness to pass when they returned to the real world.

                When they emerge out of the Metaverse and back into the alley behind Leblanc, Makoto finds herself on her feet with the world spinning in nauseating loops all around her. She staggers forward, cradling her aching head in one hand and blindly looks for some kind of wall to support herself on with the other. There’s a hand in her own, then a shoulder cushioning her head as she slumps forward barely containing the urge to vomit.

                “She’s still very ill.” Yusuke worries. “Perhaps we should take her to the hospital.”

                “And tell them what?” Morgana’s sharp comment only makes the pain in her head swell. “That we were out exploring another world and she got struck down by a Shadow? How would that help any of us?!”

                “I’m fine.” Makoto murmurs feebly. “Please…” She swallows hard, but the terrible feeling won’t budge. “Let me rest.”

                “Someone needs to make sure she gets home safely then.” Ann points out in a hushed undertone. “I seriously don’t think she’ll make it there on her own. I sh-“

                “I’ll take her.” Ryuji’s oddly serious comment echoes in her head. “You guys go home too. We’ll keep in touch.”

                “Perhaps it would be best if Ann takes her.” Yusuke puts in a little hesitantly. “As they both are females, it would make the most sense to have her accompany her.”

                Ryuji scoffs. “Yeah? And what in the hell is Ann gonna do if she faints or needs some physical strength to keep her on her feet? Akira, tell ‘em I’m right. Tell ‘em ya understand why I gotta do this.”

                “Makoto should decide.” Their leader puts in calmly. “It’s her choice.”

                “I…” Makoto takes a shaking breath in. God everything ached. It felt as if someone had pinned her in a corner and pummeled her senselessly. Was this what happened when they overextended their energy in the Metaverse? She had always felt a crushing sense of fatigue upon returning to reality, but this… this was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. “Ryuji. Please.”

                “Then it’s settled.” The blond replies with a small bounce to his voice, obviously glad that Makoto wanted him over Ann. “Come on.” He smooths a hand across her back and slowly turns them both in the direction of the train station. “We’ll take it slow. Nice and easy. Ya got this.”

                He’s very patient. Always cheering her on even if she was moving at a snail’s pace and probably causing people to stop and stare. Inside the train station he only lets her go when they have to cross through a barrier. The rest of the time he has an arm supporting her in some form or fashion, so much so Makoto knows how much it must look to outsiders. Had she been in good health, she might have died of embarrassment. But with as terrible and weak as she felt, it was a godsend to have him literally right beside her.

                The train’s packed. They always are in the evening regardless of the time. She knew not to expect any differently, but for the life of her, what she wouldn’t give for a quiet, calm place to rest her weary head that seemed too heavy for her trembling body to support. Ryuji nudges them through pockets of passengers, excusing them both while trying to keep his temper in check when some people refused to budge. He keeps soothing her in the meantime, murmuring that he’d find her a spot to sit down at for the entirety ride. She barely has the strength to speak between keeping herself on her feet, not crying as the fatigue and pain weigh down on her senses, and keeping herself from doing anything too foolish that might bring any more unwanted attention than they were already grabbing.

                “’Cuse me, but can she have this seat?” Ryuji comes to the end of the train car and pleads with what Makoto hazily makes out to be a well-dressed businessman. “She really ain’t feelin’ well and needs to sit down. Sir.” He adds the last word through gritted teeth, probably forcing himself to come off as polite to the stranger he’d chosen to plead with.

                The man lifts his newspaper without even batting an eyelash. “If she needed seat, you should have boarded sooner to ensure she got one. It’s not my problem.”

                Ryuji’s whole body tenses, and Makoto knows he’s about to unleash a shit-storm of wrath on the unsuspecting passerby who really hadn’t been as much of an asshole as he could have in the situation. She curls her hand tightly into his shirt and mutters softly for him not to cause a scene. The blond’s still wound up for a few moments longer, but he lets out a long, shaking sigh and excuses them to a miraculously empty overhead hand rest nearby as the train doors shut.

                He holds onto the hand-rest with one arm and stabilizes Makoto with the other. She likes the feeling of herself literally pushed up against him. His warmth is comforting. His scent familiar. And the stable strength of his arm now rubbing slow, soothing circles across her back reminds her she isn’t suffering alone. And when the movement of the train mixed with the sheer amount of people packed into the tiny space overwhelms her, he props his head against her own and promises her it would only be a little bit longer.

                Makoto barely makes it out of the train before the nausea of being on a speeding vehicle hits her full force. She bends over a trashcan, retching violently as people murmur at the scene she unfortunately could not help but cause. Ryuji just puts a hand on her shoulder and anxiously questions if she was going to be alright. She only nods once she stood up again, wipes away the stinging bile from her mouth, only to realize she’d somehow managed to vomit on herself too.

               “Sorry.” The woeful apology wobbles out when he wraps an arm over her shoulders and leads her over to the train they need to connect to. It’s not the line to her apartment, but she’s too weary to go anywhere than where the blond led. “I’m a mess.”

               “Nah. Don’t worry.” He hands her a crumpled handkerchief from his pocket when they pause near a flight of long stairs leading to the next section of the station. Makoto dabs at the stain to no avail and finds her weepy irritation swell. “Ya have nothin’ to apologize for.”

               By the time the sun sets, Ryuji manages to somehow safely get her to his house. He helps her take off her shoes and maneuvers them both up the short flight of stairs to the tiny second floor. He leans her against a wall, muttering that he just needed a minute to clean up, and she can only half-slump against the steady support and feel cold for the first time in hours. She doesn’t care that he’s brought her back here. Or the fact that she’d be in his room. All she wants is to lay her head down on something soft, shut her eyes, and sleep this all away like the terrible nightmare it sluggishly seemed to be.

               “’Kay.” Ryuji hooks an arm beneath her elbow and swerves her slowly into the now open doorway of his bedroom. She takes in the posters of bands, sports teams, and even scantily clad women with a tiny smile. It seemed almost too fitting for the guy helping her hobble over to his bed. “There ya go. Promise it’s clean enough to be in.”

                Her smile just grows a fraction. Of course he'd be worried about such a trivial detail. 

               “Ya sure are sick.” He squats down before her and places a hand softly on her clammy forehead. He whistles low. “Shit. That’s a damn fever without even lookin’ at an effin’ thermometer. Thought you were burnin’ up on the train, but damn. Didn’t realize it was this bad.”

               “Sorry.” She doesn’t know what to say other than to apologize.

               He shakes his head and stands to his feet. “Ain’t your fault. Uh… let me go look for a gel patch and maybe some meds.” He moves to a door behind her and starts rustling through what she assumes to be his closet. After a short search he returns to place a pair of training pants and a seafoam-ish hued shirt on the bed beside her. “Here. Ain’t fancy or anythin’, but they’re too small for me and probably better than a uniform covered in vomit.”

               She looks down at her white blouse and remembers the disgusting mess staining it a nasty shade of yellow. “Thank you.”

               “No prob.” He says while walking out of the room. “I’ll, um, shut the door and let ya change in peace. I’ll knock when I come back in.”

              Makoto gingerly helps herself out of her ruined uniform and into the change of clothes he’s left. They fit surprisingly well and are much more comfortable than the restrictive skirt, top, and tights she usually wore. She slumps over, lets her head fall on the soft pillow lingering with a powerful blast of Ryuji’s scent, and finds herself at peace in a mere moment of contact. Her eyes shut, her weary body weighs heavy against the mattress, and she knows her final reserve of strength has finally been depleted.

 _Sleep._ The urge to do just that flutters her eyes shut and slows her breathing. _I’m so exhausted I could cry._

              A knock interrupts her from falling into a black abyss of unconscious rest.

              “Makoto? Ya done?” Ryuji’s questions are muffled by the shut doorway between them. “If ya don’t respond in five seconds I’m comin’ in regardless.”

              She just lays as she has been and listens as he cautiously creaks the door open. His footsteps thud in a slow progression over to where she lay contently on the verge of sleeping her heart away. After a small tear, a grumbled curse under his breath, she feels the sticky coolness of a gel patch being plastered to her forehead. His fingers smooth across the cooling adhesive’s clothed surface to adhere it a little more securely, and the rhythmic sweep soothes her deep to her core much more quickly or effectively than any medicine she could take.

              “There ya go.” He murmurs. “Should help with the fever. Sleepin’ should probably take care of everythin’ else.”

               She cracks an eye open to see him sitting on the floor just beside the bed with his legs pressed close to his chest. His stance looks relaxed on first glance, but the longer she stares, the more rigid his shoulders appear and the tighter the muscles in his face look. He was worried. Maybe even angry. After all, that hit had been his to take, not hers.

              “Why?” He says after they’ve sat in silence for minutes straight. Makoto’s shut her eyes again by that point, but she forces herself to lift the heavy eyelids from their almost sleep-encrusted states to sweep across his oddly serious features hungry for an answer. “Why’d ya take the hit for me?”

 _Because I love you_. The wordless answer ripples out from her heart almost on instinct. _And I would rather suffer than ever watch you suffer._

              “Does it really matter?” She murmurs instead.

              “Course it does.” His eyes hold her own with such fervency it almost makes her tremble from their power. “Ya can’t expect to take a lethal blow for someone and not have them wonder why in the hell ya did it.”

              She shuts her eyes and takes in a deep, slow breath. “I just… don’t want anyone hurt.”

               It was true, even if it was only partially the reason why.

              “Doesn’t make it right.” He snaps, only to quiet when he realizes how sharp he sounds. “Shit. It’s just… It should be me feelin’ like this, not you.”

              “We’re a team. We all need… to support each other.”

              “Yeah but there’s times when ya can think only of yourself too.” He reminds her softly. “Guess this goes to show how much of a selfless person ya really are.”

              She shakes her head slowly and curls her hand into his thin summer comforter. “No. Not at all.”

              He says nothing. Makoto just lays wearily listening to the static noise of an AC unit in the window blasting cool air into the room they both occupied. Selfless. She finds it funny that he of all people thinks that. If only he knew how selfish she really was. How greedy her heart was to have him look at her and only her. To have him act the way he had today for every day following.

              “Shit.” His sudden curse blasts away the blanket of silence enveloping them both. It takes all the strength in her to crack an eye barely open to see his panicked expression. “Your sis. Is she comin’ home tonight?”

              Makoto makes a small noise in negation while shutting her weary eye.  Sae had come home the night before, disheveled and snappy, with a forced comment that she wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night at the earliest. “No.”

              “Good. Guess that’s one less thing to worry about.” There’s a slight hint of amusement to his words. “Well, I’ll shuddup and let you rest.”

              “Kay.” She mumbles, already halfway asleep again. “Night.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First of, I would like to thank everyone for reading! I was very shocked to see all the comments, kudos, and views. That's very kind of you. 
> 
> Took some creative liberty with this chapter after having the most annoying time in Futaba's palace and having allies revived with 1 HP after many fights depleted my revival items. Funny how this game didn't take into consideration fatigue/sickness or teammates having things that might have prevented them from being able to go to the Metaverse. Just because Morgana doesn't let you do anything but sleep when you return doesn't necessarily mean the others have someone nagging them to do the same (or should I think to myself...) But anyway, I hope you enjoyed.
> 
> Until next time!


	5. Release

           Makoto wakes to sunlight peeking in through the blinds of the window, flails blindly for her phone, only to find it was not in the usual spot on the edge of her bed a few inches away from the pillow. So tired. She had a few more hours to sleep right? She screws her eyes together and presses her face into the pillow beneath her cheek, only to get a powerful blast of a scent that she couldn’t recognize.

           Her eyes fly open, and there’s a moment of debilitating panic when the room around her isn’t her bedroom. The thoughts run at a thousand miles per hour as she scans the cluttered room, only to start when she noticing Ryuji’s form huddled beneath a blanket on the floor. All the events from the day before hit her now, and she finds her heart racing from something other than fear. Guilt, for making everyone worry so much, as well as imposing on Ryuji when she knew he could have just deposited her at door of her apartment and gone on his way.

           But he had been so kind. So patient. So soothing. Ryuji might make an ass of himself often, but deep down, he really had a kind heart. After all, he always respected Ann and herself despite his almost crass comments sometimes stereotyping their gender. Not to mention he adored his mother as clear as day and never spoke a word against her.

           She leans over the edge of the bed and watches his vulnerable form sleeping on without a care. He’s a messy sleeper- the blanket is half strewn over one leg and a fraction of his body, his shirt’s rolled up to his bellybutton, his appendages all bent in odd directions, not to mention his mouth hanging slightly ajar so a steady stream of drool cascades onto the pillow just beside him. Still, it’s adorable. So much so that she can’t help but smile at what a dork he could be when his cocky defenses fell and he was just a seventeen-year-old finding his way in this vast, frightening world just like she was.

           Still, she knows she can’t wait until he wakes to make her departure. It seems like a cowardly thing, but she wanted to let him rest contently and be on her way. Part of her knows its impolite to impose anymore now that she had regained most of her stamina. But the real reason is she’s afraid. Afraid to confront him and realize how little things had progressed in her favor.

           After all, as kind as he had been yesterday, it in no way indicated that he ever acted out of affection.

            If anything, from their conversation from yesterday, he had done what he had from a mixture of guilt and sympathy.

           And while that was all well and good, it did hurt. The pain stung like an internal paper cut that would never seal over. Knowing you weren’t wanted wasn’t easy for anyone to accept. And after being labeled a weirdly smart, ass-kissing goody two-shoes for the entirety of her life, Makoto had felt enough isolation as an outsider that no one wanted to last her an eternity.

           She side-steps gingerly in the small space between the bed and where he's still sleeping to grab her schoolbag off the floor. Her uniform, however, is nowhere to be seen, despite her frantic sweep from one corner of the room to the other. She had sworn she had placed it on the floor near the foot of the bed in a neat pile. Then again, the whole day before was a huge blur so who could say she hadn’t imagined the whole thing?

           After one last visual scour across the room, she deems her uniform hidden well enough that she wouldn’t be able to find it without waking Ryuji. Thank god she had a spare back at the apartment she could use until he clarified as to what happened to her soiled clothing. So discarding her search, she slowly wedges the slightly ajar door open a little wider so she can fit through without making much noise. There’s a slight moment of panic when the floorboards groan and Ryuji stirs slightly, but he soon drooling a puddle back into his pillow as she breathes a silent sigh of relief.

           She makes a quick pit stop to the restroom across the hall. The medicine path has left a sticky sort of residue on her forehead that takes a few deft scrubs of her hands followed by a splash of warm water to rinse away. One glance in the mirror has her glad she hadn’t encountered Ryuji upon waking. Her sheet white features were barely tinted with any color, and in all honesty, she looked like a train wreck who needed to avoid anyone’s gaze for as long as possible.

           Back downstairs, however, she smells the aroma of brewed tea and fried eggs with a sinking stomach. While she may have evaded Ryuji, it seemed she wouldn’t be able to avoid his mother. She only dreads what half-truths the blond must have told his mother as to why they were housing her for the evening. And maybe more importantly, how she’d make sure their stories matched up to keep any suspicion from cropping up on his parental figure’s behalf.

           The weary middle-aged woman is sitting down the quaint table in the dining room planted between the kitchen and the living room she had once so frequently been a guest in. Mrs. Sakamoto lifts her gaze from the magazine she’s been reading and gives the obviously uncomfortably sheepish teen a small smile. Makoto tightens a hand against her schoolbag and dips her head slightly.

           “Good morning.” Ryuji’s mother says softly. “How are you feeling?”

            She attempts a tiny smile. “A little better than yesterday. Please forgive me for intruding upon your home without your permission. I hope I haven’t caused you any extra stress or discomfort for imposing myself here.”

            “It was no problem at all. Ryuji called and told me the circumstances on my way home from work.” Her dark eyes sweep over Makoto’s form with some concern. “You still look quite sick. Are you sure you wouldn’t like me to call one of your family members to come pick you up?”

             Makoto shakes her head. “Thank you for the kind offer, but my sister is my only living relative. She’s working out of town at the moment.”

            “Ah! Ryuji did say that now that I think about it.” She comments with an apologetic look. “Well, if you don’t feel well you’re more than welcome to stay here for as long as need be.”

             “Thank you for offering such kind hospitality, but I shouldn’t impose any longer.”

             “If you insist.” The woman can see she’s fighting a losing battle and stands to her feet. “Well, let me go grab your uniform for you. Ryuji had me run it through the laundry last night so you’d have it clean if need be. They may be a bit wrinkled but you should be able to iron out any creases when you get home.”

             “Thank you.” Makoto breathes in awe. So that was where her uniform had mysteriously disappeared to. “I truly appreciate you doing such a thing.”

             The woman returns promptly from the back end of the bottom floor with her entire uniform folded in a neat little stack within a mesh tote of sorts. Makoto dips her head deeply and takes her clothing back with a grateful comment murmured. When she stands, she sees Ryuji’s mother watching her with some anxiety still.

             “Are you sure you don’t want me to wake Ryuji up and have him see you home? It’d put me at ease, and him as well without a doubt.” A small smile forms on her lips that Makoto can’t put an emotion with. “He was quite worried about you the entire night. Which for my usual easygoing son says a lot. Though I’m sure you already know.”

             Makoto can’t help but feel a little mortified. It was clear she approved of her existence in Ryuji’s life, but when she said things like that, it made it feel like the depth of her approval dove a little deeper than the teen anticipated. Still, it didn’t mean she was any more inclined to put herself face to face with the blond anytime soon.

              “There’s no need. Truly. I’ll be sure to send Ryuji a text when I arrive home safely.” Makoto bends forward in a polite goodbye. “Thank you again for your kindness, Miss Sakamoto. I’ll be sure to return the gratitude as soon as possible.”

              The slender woman waves a hand lightly between them. “None of that. You’ve already done so much for my son. There’s no need to feel indebted to us. You’re always welcome here, Makoto. Very welcome. So please don’t make yourself a stranger on our account because you think you’ve inconvenienced us in any way.”    

              Her throat tightens. It was the first time someone had been so warm and gracious towards her in a very long time. Kindness was such a foreign thing to her. And to be given it so earnestly made her weak with a sense of awe and humbleness.

              She returns home in Ryuji’s clothes, not at all ashamed to be adorned in his careful comfort of her when she had been weak and needed him to protect her. And when she steps into her silent, empty house that hadn’t been a home since she and Sae had moved here following her father’s death, she presses her nose into the collar of the graphic tee and finds herself at home instead in his smell. She really loved him. Truly, deeply cared for him that one day soon the whole world would see and it would no longer be able to be kept a secret.

              Ryuji’s name frantically lights up the screen of her smartphone as she lays in bed, too exhausted to do anything but sleep after the draining ride home. A small part of her wants to let the phone ring unanswered, but knowing that was pure cowardice that would only cause more harm than help in this situation, she slides the answer bar across the screen and offers a meek greeting.

             “The hell, woman?” He slurs irritably, clearly still partially asleep despite it being almost noon. “Where are ya? When did ya leave? And why in the hell did you not wake me up in the span of time between ya wakin’ up and deciding to hightail it out of here?”

             “I’m back at home, Ryuji.” She informs him levelly. “As I should be. No need to worry. I’m just fine.”

             “Still doesn’t make any of this right.” He complains. “Seriously, what were you thinkin’? Shit. I had an effin’ panic attack when I realized you and your stuff were missin’. Ma was gone too, and I literally had no clue what happened to ya.”

             “I’m sorry.” Her apology is awkward. Extremely awkward. “I just assumed… with how deeply you were sleeping and my overall inconvenience that-“

             “Well you assumed wrong.” He grumbles. “Damn. For a Brainiac you sure do some stupid shit sometimes.”

              She frowns. “If you’re going to insult me, let’s just end the conversation here. I don’t deserve to be spoken to in such a manner.”

              His sigh sends the static blasting through her phone’s receiver. “Just- ugh. Ok. Listen. You can’t up and leave people when they’re worried about you. I know ya must be used to relyin’ on your own strength but ya have me, Ann, Yusuke, and Ayato- plus Morgana if ya want to count him too- tryin’ to support you. So it’s ok to admit weakness sometimes, y’know. Ya don’t always got to pretend ya got it all figured out around us.”

              Her eyes burn with tears. After being on her own for so long, she had come to keep people at arm’s length as a defense mechanism she often didn’t realized she employed. Ryuji was right. But after being brainwashed into believing she had to uphold some conjured image of perfection, admitting any weakness was a fatal blow she had once thought was unforgivable to her future.

              A future, she now realized, was growing less and less clear in direction every day she acted as a Phantom Thief. Not to mention fell even harder in love with him.

              “Thank you.” She says softly. “For what you did for me yesterday. And always being there for me.”

              “Course.” He says a little seriously. “That’s what we do. We’re a team. Nobody’s gotta go solo or feel like they ain’t got shit in this world anymore. You’re one of us and we can’t lose ya. So don’t worry. You’re perfect the way ya are, Makoto.”

              Her whole body warms with an unspeakable explosion of elation. Perfect. He… really thought she was perfect? It was the first time someone had said it so earnestly without meaning it as an underhanded comment and for him of all people to be thinking it made it all the sweeter and more precious.

               “You’re too kind.” She murmurs. “But we all have our flaws.”

               “True.” He laughs. “Welp, ya are feelin’ better right?”

               “A little.”

               “Eh, guess that’s better than feelin’ worse. And ya got your uniform right? I told Ma to run it through the laundry for ya.”

               “Yes. She handed it to me on my way out the door. Please thank her again for me. I hope I didn’t cause any discomfort between you for staying overnight.”

               “Eh…” He drags the sound out for a few awkward seconds. “Wouldn’t really call it discomfort. A little awkward, I guess, with ya being a girl and all, but she knew no funny business was goin’ on. Not after ‘splainin’ the situation. Or the fact that it was you, y’know?”

               Makoto can’t help but read into the lines. What had he meant by it being her? Had it been any other girl, would the situation been different? Oh. Her stomach plummets and her heart burns with a seething sense of envy all at once. What he meant was he wasn’t attracted to her so there was no need to ever think anything sensual would build between them.

                He didn’t like her.

                And from the sounds of it, he was perfectly fine with never finding himself attracted to her.

                She wanted to cry and scream in injustice, but she bottles the emotions deep down to cap the eruption before it can occur.

                “Of course.” She can still hear the jaggedness of her tone cutting into the silence like a dagger to attack him. “Why should she ever think otherwise?”

                “Makoto? Y’okay? Ya sound a little…. I dunno. Upset.”

                Upset? Oh hell. She was livid. And for no good reason. She had never been the emotional type- not without reason- but since being exposed to the ugly, dangerous world of romantic affection, she didn’t know what she was anymore.

                “I’m just grumpy.” Well, not exactly that, but she couldn’t really say anything else. “My body needs more rest I suppose.”

                “Gotcha.” He’s quick to accept it for face-value. “Well, lemme go then so ya can sleep some more. And don’t worry. I’ll tell the others not to bother ya today either.”

                “Thank you.” She feels like an ass for snapping at him.  “I’ll see you all at school tomorrow.”

                “Mhm. Take it easy til then.”

                They exchange farewells and Makoto lowers her warm phone from her ear to her bed. The others. She had completely forgotten about them in the span of time she had been in his care. What did they think? Had any of them… she feels sick to her stomach as her actions from the day before hit her full force. Well, she couldn’t blame them if they had put two and two together after she practically threw herself into Ryuji’s arms anytime she had the opportunity.

                “It’ll have to come out one day.” She whispers sadly to herself. “Even if it means be rejected or ridiculed, we have to let this feeling go free sometime.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you yet again for reading! I hope you all are enjoying your weekend and making the most of it :)


	6. Support

               The summer comes in a hot, bright blur of activity.

                Futaba’s palace opens a world of hidden truths they had been barred from before. Cognitive Pscience, her mother a lead researcher behind it, and the whole mystery of a Metaverse ravaging Makoto’s thoughts, begging to be connected to the string of mental shutdowns and a mysterious black masked thief also infiltrating Palaces without ever crossing paths with them. It’s a puzzle with thousands of tiny pieces scattered too far out of reach to be solved. And as much as they all wanted answers, at this moment in time, there were none to be gleaned.

                Still, it’s not all bad in retrospect. School is out for summer vacation, and their group of Persona-users has yet again grown. Futaba is intelligent, if not obviously introverted and sheltered from spending a majority of her life locked away from society. But with time and interaction with different members of the group, over a short period of time, she begins to open up to all of them. They’re all beyond excited in their own personal ways. After all, what family isn’t overjoyed when it adds a new member? As strange and different as they all were, what bonded them made them more than friends. It always had.

                They all decide to take a trip down to the beach to celebrate the many successes they all had experienced since gaining the sheltered tech guru in their group. Everyone’s abuzz with activities to do, sights to see, but Makoto can’t really join in on their enthusiasm as much as she would have liked. She’s pushed them all away since the incident that had rendered her a helpless mess after taking a critical blow within the Palace. Ryuji especially. And they all noticed it, probably with a grain of salt, but left her to her own devices. Not that they ignored her or made her ever feel out of place, but the atmosphere had definitely shifted. A shift, Makoto feared, would never budge because she was too much of a coward to face her own feelings head on and admit the real reason why she wanted some space from them all.

                Ann offers for them to meet up and choose swimsuits for the fated day among the sun and sand, and Makoto finds herself agreeing without much enthusiasm. Who would care what she wore? All eyes would be on the pretty blonde. They were always on her as it was and being scantily clad would only reinforce that. She knows it seems petty, and probably stupid in the broad picture, but it was true.

                “Hmmm…” The blonde swivels speculatively in front of Makoto’s full-length mirror in a tropical-themed bikini. She turns her dainty chin over her shoulder and smiles lightly at the older girl. “What do you think? Too colorful?”

                “You look lovely, Ann.” She assures the nervous girl with a small smile. “You always do.”

                Her cheeks burn with a touch of pink. “Right. If you say so.” She turns to look back at the mirror with a small smile. “I guess I’m just nervous, you know? This is my first time in a swimsuit around Akira. I want him to-” She shakes her head quickly. “Never mind. Forget I even said anything, ok?”               

                Makoto’s smile grows a fraction. “You really like him, don’t you?”

                “I-I do.” Ann stammers, embarrassed by the confession. “Is it really that obvious?”

                Makoto can only roll her eyes in amusement. The pair of them were so oblivious to their own flirting. Not that she cared. Lucky them. What she wouldn’t give to be in Ann’s shoes and find herself nervous about impressing the one guy she was infatuated with.

                 After all, Ryuji's complacent acceptance of her silence and almost awkward nature around him reassured that he wasn't the worse for wear to keep her at arm's length. The feelings of wanting to love and be loved didn't have the mirror opposite within him. There were a million reasons to keep them apart and gladly so. It seems liked every night she laid ravaged by her spinning thoughts unable to be settle that she found one reason more to add to that terrible list that weighed on her chest like a brick.

                “Makoto, what’s wrong? You’re frowning.”

                “Am I?” She replies a little surprised. She hadn’t realized her expression had budged.

                Ann nods and squats down to be on her level. “You’ve been really tense lately. Like more than usual. Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes bouncing ideas off someone else helps. Trust me. I know from experience.”

                She’s too weary of constantly being at war with herself and putting up walls to try and reassure Ann nothing was wrong. Her chin dips, and she feels the full weight of her misery. “Will you promise to keep this confidential between us?”

                “Of course!” Her eyes go wide as she makes a sign to cross her heart. “I promise. This stays between us girls. So?” Her expression speaks of unbridled anticipation. “What is it?”

                Makoto presses her lips together. “I don’t know where to start.”

                “Well, let me see if I can help. What’s the topic?”

                “Um, love, I suppose.”

                “LOVE?!” Ann shoots up like a rocket as she shrieks in delight. “Ohmygod, ohmygod, who? What? When? I…” She shakes her head and shrieks again. “Oh. My. God. Spill the beans!”

                Makoto’s puckered lips tense even more than before. “You’ll laugh.”

                “What? No!” She flails her arms and gapes horrified at the other girl. “Of course I won’t. I mean, unless it’s Yusuke.” Her eyes go wide. “Oh my god. Please tell me it’s not Yusuke.”

                “Oh god no.” Makoto gags. She tightens her hands into her blanket and looks at her feet. “It’s actually, um… Ryuji.”

                Ann’s silent for a solid thirty seconds or so.

“Ryuji?” She echoes.

                All Makoto can do is nod. Her eyes burn with tears. The silence only reassures her that Ann was shocked into stupor. Which meant she either hadn’t been expecting it or didn’t see how in the world such a thing could be possible. Either way, she feels like a complete fool for even opening her mouth and admitting that him of all people had been the one who had stolen her once so well-guarded heart.

                Ann dips down again and meets her gaze with a look of sympathy. “Makoto, do you really like Ryuji?”

                And like that, she throws her head into her hands and breaks down crying like a bab. 

                “I’m such a moron.” She weeps. “Aren’t I?”

                “What?! No!” Ann puts her hand on her back in a sisterly act of comfort. “Of course not. If anyone’s the moron, it’s him. Oh my god. This is seriously unbelievable.” She breathes. “How long have you liked him?”

                 “I-I don’t really know. Months?”

                “Seriously?!”

                Makoto just nods weakly.

                “Holy crap.” Ann blinks in disbelief. “I didn’t even realize it. But wow. You know, everything makes a little more sense now.”

                She turns to look at the blonde staring off into space. “Does it?”

                Her green eyes return to her, and a smile soon forms on her pretty features. “Yep. It really does. But forget about that. What really matters is how are we going to get him to admit his own feelings.”

                Makoto’s eyes burn with unshed tears of humiliation and heartbreak. “You and I both know he has no romantic feelings for me. I’m obviously not his type.”

                “Ryuji says one thing and means something else entirely.” Ann snorts. “Besides, I think you’re a little too quick to say he doesn’t _like_ like you.”

                Makoto can’t help but look at her with a broken, desperate look. “Do you really think that he might?”

                Ann smiles. “I really do. So let’s see if we can get to the bottom of this once and for all.”

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always for reading. Sorry for the short chapter this week, but I promise next week's installment will be longer than usual and packed full of lovely goodies for you to enjoy. Until next time!


	7. Summer

The whole group seems to shout in delight all at once as the beautiful beach scene hits them.

It’s a perfect summer day.  A bright blue sky scattered with wispy clouds, plenty of warm sunlight, and a long stretch of good weather that made everything shimmer with energy. Had the circumstances been a little bit different, Makoto might have smiled. But she had spent the whole night before tossing and turning, lost in the tangled web of hidden truths of the Metaverse as well as her own heart unable to be unraveled, and she was exhausted before this outing even began.

“Makoto,” Ann links arms with hers and gives her a dazzling smile. “Come on! Let’s go get changed. Futbaba,” The blonde swivels around to grin at their newest female member. “You too.”

“Ann, I feel silly.” Makoto murmurs under her breath as she looks at the white, frilly two-piece swimsuit on her pale petite form. She hadn’t mustered up the courage to put on something a little more risqué, nor did she think it would be of any importance when it was clear that Ann would outshine her regardless of what she wore. “This is stupid.”

“Hush!” The blonde clamps a hand over each of her shoulders and props her chin up on one of them. “You look pretty, Makoto. Super pretty. And _he_ would be very, very stupid to think otherwise.”

Ann corrals her out of the changing booth out to the sun-kissed sand where their trio of boys were waiting in their own swimsuits. Futaba had squeaked about needing another minute or two, and the older girls had let her muster the courage to step out on her own before deciding an intervention was necessary. Makoto can’t help but feel jealous when all three male gazes immediately fall on Ann and linger on the pleasing sight. She didn’t like being reminded she would always be second place in someone’s books.

Especially Ryuji’s, whose slack-jawed, beady-eyed look was almost uncouth.

“Damn Ann! Nice choice.” He compliments the blonde beside her with a grin tugging his lips upward at a stupidly fast rate. “You’re rockin’ that bikini.”

“Aww, come on Ryuji!” She hops forward and extends a slender arm over at Makoto. “Aren’t you guys going to say anything about Makoto? Don’t you think she’s pretty too?”

“Indeed.” Yusuke nods once and moves to make a frame-like box with his fingers to gaze at the brunette through. “A splendid image befitting to be garlanded in ivory. A resilient rose adorned in innocent cloth.”

“You look pretty, Makoto.” Akira says kindly with an encouraging smile that signaled he knew was Ann was up to.  “It’s a nice change of pace.”

“Thank you.” She smiles back lightly. At least she had his support too in this whole chaotic ordeal.

“Um, Ryuji, hello?” Ann gives him a hard smack on the back that makes him yelp. “You’re supposed to say something too.”

He glares at her. “Whaddya want me to say? Yusuke and him are already said she looks nice. Ain’t much else to say.”

“So you do think she’s pretty too, right?” Ann gives him a narrow-eyed look. “Right?”

“Knock it off.” He snaps, oddly irritable. “This is effin’ weird. She’s cute. You’re cute. There. Ya happy now?”

Ann gives him a slow, calculating look over. “Ooookay then.” She turns to smile at the others. “Let me go nab Futaba. Makoto,” She smiles at the pinch-faced teen not at all happy with Ryuji’s inability to say anything nice about her with as much gusto as he had Ann. “Come on.”

“Stupid bastard.” Ann mutters under her breath as they tromp back over to the changing booth they had left Futaba in. “What was that all about?”

“Just leave him be, Ann.” Makoto warns her gently. “It’s best not to push where we’re not wanted.”

Ann gives her a sidelong glance. “But you have to admit that was weird. Usually he’s all smiley with everybody. Like… that was the weirdest change in reactions. Total Jekyll and Mr. Hyde moment, you know?”

“Even Ryuji has his bad days.” She reminds her a little reluctantly. Ryuji had never reacted that way before. “Though it is odd for him to be out of sorts after his excitement for this spanning as long as it has.”

“Guess I’ll just leave him be then.” Ann sighs in disappointment. “Man, and I really was hoping to help you out.”

Makoto lays a hand on her shoulder when they stop outside the tent Futaba was in. “You’ve done more than enough to help me. Enjoy your time with Akira and don’t worry about me.”

It’s a fun day full of energy and laughter. Futaba’s enjoying herself to the fullest despite her panic attack arriving here to find almost every inch of sand occupied by people, and the other’s feed off her innocent glee almost instantaneously. They splash around in the water, chase each other down the damp sand line between beach and ocean before crashing under the beach umbrella and large blanket they’ve marked their spot on the sand with.  

Makoto spends most of her time in the shade reading a book while Yusuke sat nearby people-watching in his strange artist admiration. She watches the four other members of their group having a wonderful time out in the water, playing chicken or just floating on the waves chatting animatedly. She wants to be out there with them. Really and truly wants to let loose and giggle in girly glee like Ann did or goad the others on like Futaba did with her cheeky banter. But she was the serious, studious one. One that everyone quickly forgot about when times were fun.

“Makotooooo!” Ann practically launches herself into her arms when the four finally retreat from the water to take a break of sorts. “We’re going to rent a banana boat! You’ll totally come and join us, right?”

“Yeah!” Futaba bobs a few enthusiastic nods. “Please?!”

Makoto offers them both a tiny smile as the boys spread out the various snacks they’ve toted along with them. “If it’d bring you both that much enjoyment, I don’t see why not.”

The other two girls both cheer.

Ryuji slumps over. “No fair. I wanna join in too!”

“Never said you couldn’t.” Futaba snorts and rolls her eyes. “Girls go first, then we can all kinda do what we want until our rental time runs out. Sound like a deal?”

“Hell yeah!” Ryuji pumps his arms in the air excitedly. “Sounds effin’ awesome.”

It’s a fun thrill. Makoto sits in the front and finds herself giddy as the ocean waves send the speeding boat towing their rented banana boat up into the air then back down against the water with some force. Futaba has both arms wrapped tightly against her stomach, squealing in delight as the three girls took their first turn together. Afterwards, they all laugh and grin as the adrenaline of the fun activity ebbs through their veins.

“Okay, dudes next!” Ryuji points a thumb back at the awaiting banana boat. “Akira, Yusuke, you’re game, right?”

Yusuke shakes his head, still very much intent on the two lobsters he so frivolously bought shortly after the group convened from a late midday snack. “Forgive me, but I will have to decline. I choose to enjoy the ocean from afar.”

“Chicken.” Ryuji grumbles before looking over at the girls. “So, who wants to take his place?”

“I do, I do!” Futaba cheers. “Let’s go.”

The group of five rotate and make the most of their one hour rental. Makoto finds herself mostly pulled in by Ann or Futaba to join them with Akira. She can’t do anything but accept, though all the while secretly hoping for one chance to ride with Ryuji.

“Oookay!” Ann lifts a hand in the air and grins cheerfully at Makoto. Her stomach drops. Just what exactly was she up to now? “I call last ride with Ryuji and Makoto.”

“Kay…” Futaba’s worn out agreement comes after she’s propped her weary head against Akira’s arm. “Have fun.”

The three teens head over to the banana boat driver and nod when he reminds them that this would be their last ride. Ryuji mulls around Ann, almost completely ignoring Makoto to the point of being rude. Makoto feels the cold shoulder almost as easily as he offers it. Something was wrong. Though she couldn’t figure out what.

Ann shimmies on first and calls for Makoto next. The younger girl winks as she slides into her seat and offers a chipper comment about how much fun this whole day had been. She can only offer a tense smile as Ryuji’s weight registers on the banana boat just behind her, so nervous she knew she’d vomit if she opened her mouth to actually agree.

It’s a rougher ride than the other two she’d been on. The waves are choppy now, sending the inflatable tube holding all three of their bodies several feet into the air, then back down to the surface of the ocean with some force. Ann’s squealing in delight, begging the boat pulling them to go as fast as they wanted. Ryuji’s cheering too, though it sounds a little forced. Makoto says nothing even if she was savoring the experience as much as Ann was.

There’s a sharp turn as the boat turns back for shore, and Makoto almost jumps out of her seat as Ryuji’s body slams into her back. “Shit.” He says almost instantaneously. “S-sorry.”

She just squeaks what should have been an apology when she attempts to respond. Her whole body’s unbearably hot with mortification. Maybe she could just drown herself and save herself the embarrassment of doing anything more stupid.

He gets down first and stands in the waves lapping a good way up his legs to offer his both hands to Makoto. “Here.” He says with his eyes looking everywhere but directly at her. “Waves are kinda strong now that it’s high tide.”

She puts both of hers in his and tries to not tremble as he stabilizes her from her slow descent from the slippery tube into the water below. “Thank you.”

“Sure.” He retracts his hands almost immediately and trudges off towards Ann. “Lemme help Ann too.”

And her heart sinks. Of course he hadn’t meant to help only her as much as she wished for it to be true. Ryuji didn’t like her. Every action of his from today screamed an almost awkward detachment from wanting anything to do with her. She tries to think back and pinpoint if there had been any indication as to why. Her heart sinks when she can think of no clear reason that would cause this almost 180 change in his behavior around her.

Unless that was, of course, he had realized she felt something affectionate for him.

And if that was the case, there was nothing she could do but accept this as a silent answer rejecting her.

The group packs up their things and heads to the train station to head back to the inner part of Tokyo before it got too late in the evening. Ann and Ayato are in their own little world when the six pile into a train car with two person seating lining both ends of the high-speed bullet, and oddly, even Futaba and Yusuke are having some sort of animated conversation Makoto catches snippets of popular animated shows she secretly watched herself as they plop down in a pair of seats together too.

Which left her with Ryuji.

He’s already taken a seat by the window a row in front of the chatty cartoon enthusiasts, fished his phone and a pair of headphones out of his pocket, and makes it very clear he didn’t want to be disturbed. Makoto meekly takes the seat beside him, pulls out her own phone and headphones, and tries not to cry as the first song that comes on shuffle is from a band he introduced her to when they had been so oddly close.

A proximity she feared she’d never share with him again.

 _Hey._ The text scrolls at the top of her phone with Ryuji’s name popping at her in bold kanji probably ten minutes into the train ride. _What r u listenin to?_

She dips her chin as she texts back the name of the band, telling herself not to look at him.

 _Yeah?_ He texts back almost immediately. _Did u really like that band?_

 _Mhm._ After all, it had been him who introduced her to it. And she savored the connection in times like this when he felt so far away even when being literally a few inches beside her. _They’re great._

He nudges her with his elbow. She looks up from her phone to see him gesturing for her to fish out a headphone. When she does, he wipes one of his on his shirt and dangles it in her direction. “Here. Lemme show you a different band that sounds like them then.”

She tries not to let her emotions get the best of her as he scrolls through his music library and comments on the various bands like he had much as he had whenever they spoke about music before. Makoto just sits and absorbs it all, so infinitely happy that he was just talking to her that her eyes fill with tears. The music goes from energetic to something a little softer, and Ryuji falls silent to let them both just savor the ambiance of it all like they were lost in their own little world connected by a pair of headphones.

Makoto’s sleepless night finally catch up with her, and her eyes begin to drift shut as the rhythmic acoustic covers drift in one ear and the white noise of the speeding train in the other. She wills herself to hold on for another forty-five or so until the train would arrive at Shibuya station, but the harder she fights against it, the stronger the desire to sleep becomes. In the end, she dips her chin, slows her breathing, and falls asleep with the warmth of Ryuji’s arm pressing up against her own as he continued to scroll through his playlist for another song for them both to listen to.

“Hey.” A slight nudge draws her from a dreamless sleep. “Makoto, y’awake? Train’s stopped.”

She rolls her head back and sighs as the steady support remains beneath her heavy skull. Gods, she was weary to the bone. And what was Ryuji doing here? What-

Her eyes fly open to take in the train car all moving to gather their belongings for the impending departure. She lifts her chin, only to squeak when she sees Ryuji looking down at her from literally a few centimeters away. Her brains a whirlwind of thoughts, panicked screams, and incoherent nonsense as she jerks her head off his shoulder with a little more energy than necessary. The ear bud tugs out of her ear and falls limply on his arm as he watches on in confusion.

“I’m _so_ sorry.” She apologizes instantly. “I didn’t- I had no idea I-“

He lifts an eyebrow. “What’re ya freakin out about? Ya just fell asleep is all. Can’t really control what your body does when that happens.”

“Still, I didn’t mean to impose.” Her cheeks burn in mortification. She had fallen asleep on him. Like a girlfriend would with her boyfriend. Oh gods. That must have been what it appeared like to everyone who might have seen. Why wasn’t he upset? If he didn’t like her, wouldn’t he have been a little uncomfortable for the sudden contact or implied statement a simple thing like that usually held? “You should have woken me.”

“Right.” He snorts. “Knowin’ ya, sleep is probably the last thing you’ve been doin’. Seems like kinda an ass thing to do when, like I said, it wasn’t a problem.”

She dips her head sheepishly. “Oh. If you say so.”

They all unboard the train and say their goodbyes as they head their separate ways. Yusuke’s off in one direction, Akira and Futaba another, Ryuji, she and Ann another. They all promise to meet up now that the summer vacation stretched in a beautiful, carefree length of time before them. A nice, calming time Makoto knew was only leading up to more stressful, serious days of entrance exams and god knows what else for her as her final year in senior high came to its melancholy end.

At their mutual stop at Shimbashi, Ryuji simply lifts a hand in parting and heads off towards the more antique, small family homes to the northeast while the two girls head west to the modern complexes of apartments where Ann was staying and Makoto had spent the night in preparation. The blonde’s humming happily under her breath as they go on their way, and Makoto can’t help but assume she was just giddy from the time she’s spent with Ayato. But once they’re far enough away, the girl grabs her by the elbow and swivels her to look right into her face.

“Oh. My. God.” Ann’s eyes are twinkling. “You _have_ to see this.”

She suddenly shoves her phone into Makoto’s face. The other girl recoils and squints as the bright screen shows a picture of-

Her mouth suddenly hangs open as the image registers. It was her and Ryuji. Well, more like her fast asleep on his shoulder while the blond watched on. And it wasn’t so much so that Ann had captured the moment she wanted to forget until about three seconds ago. It was the look on Ryuji’s face.

One, she couldn’t deny was softened by amusement and- god, dare she say it- affection as he gazed down at her innocently sleeping against him without a care in the world.

“Oh my god.” Is all Makoto can say after staring incredulously at the photo for a solid minute straight.

“I know right?!” Ann squeals. “See. This is exactlywhy I told Akira we needed to sit where we did on the train. Like…  Cha ching! I totally hit the jackpot!”

Makoto shakes her head in disbelief. “Did he really…" The hushed question draws on as she slowly scans the photo one more time to make sure she was hallucinating. "Look at me this way?”

“Girl, photos don’t lie.” Ann laughs. “I’m still reeling in shock. After the total asshat he was earlier, I was starting to think something was up, and now it all makes sense. He likes you, Makoto. He has to! I mean- and I even asked Akira- no guy looks at a girl this way unless he did.”

Makoto’s lips form a tense smile. “Perhaps.” 

Ann slumps over dramatically and pouts when she stands back up. “Come on! Can’t you be a little more chipper that we’re like a hundred steps closer to getting you two together?”

“I’m thankful for your help. Truly, Ann. But it’s best to just leave things be. You saw how Ryuji acted when push came to shove. Besides, pursuing a relationship shouldn’t be at the forefront of my thoughts, nor has it been. It will all end up as intended one day, so let us figure this out from here between us, alright?”

“Fine.” Ann acquiesces, obviously against her own will. “If that’s what you want, I’ll keep my nose out of it. But I’m always here to talk if you feel like it. Us girls got to have each other’s backs through thick and thin. _Especially_ when it comes to boys.”

They say goodbye when their paths finally take them in different directions later that evening. Makoto sighs at length once she’s alone on the street outside of Ann’s apartment complex. She looks up at the now darkened sky and frowns.

“What the hell?” She mutters to the invisible deity that seems to be mocking her.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading as always! Tune in next time for your weekly dose of torture ;)


	8. Near but Far

             Summer vacation passes by in a blur of hot, humid days often chopped into manageable segments by torrential downpours of rain. Makoto takes it all in stride, knowing this was her last summer vacation as a high school student. She tries not to frown as the sheer blandness of her other two summers wasted away studying alone in either the air-conditioned space of the apartment, perusing a few bookstores, or watching an old show in solitude at the dinner table dawns upon her. Odd, how this one hadn’t been much different despite the very drastic changes that had occurred in her life.

              Still, she makes it her resolution to not let this summer pass in the same manner as it always had. She meets up with the others whenever they decide to spend a day together, but it becomes awkward. Uncomfortable. Despite the small progress she had thought she had made with Ryuji, it seemed nonexistent when he teased Ann, whined about not being able to snag a hit summer fling, or in all honesty, ignored the fact Makoto even existed. She can’t help but feel a torrent of ugly feelings beneath her calm mask. Why was he being such an ass? If he liked her, why treat her in such an abhorrent manner? Or was this all just some kind of game to him?

              “That dipshit.” Ann grumbles one night when the two of them are on the phone. Makoto’s been sitting at her desk, mindlessly twirling a pencil as her study packet for the entrance exams held no progress from where she had left off a few nights before. “I’ve had it up to _here_ with him. Kind of thought I became immune to watching him make an ass of himself, but he’s really ticking me off. Treating you like that. And Morgana too. Who in the hell does he think he is?”

               “I honestly don’t know anymore.” Makoto replies wearily. “He seems to have become a different person entirely when we’re all together.”

               “If by a different person you mean a disgusting, self-absorbed prick, then yes. I totally agree.”

                “Ann?”

                “Yeah?”

                Makoto pinches the bridge of her nose and tries not to sob like the emotional mess she had become recently. “This is all foolishness, isn’t it? What am I even doing anymore?”

                “Oh, Makoto.” The other girl coos in concern. “Come on. This isn’t your fault. It’s his. And I wish there was some way I could shake the stupid out of him and make him come to his senses. You seriously don’t deserve any of this.”

                Makoto can offer a strangled sound of agreement. She was starting to believe she did deserve it. After all, the idea had always been laughable. Maybe that was why Ryuji decided she wasn’t worth pursuing.

                She tries not to weep when Akira texts her later that night, clearly informed of her emotional roller-coaster of a conversation with his sweetheart. _R u ok?_

_I’m fine_. She knows it’s a lie as much as he will upon receiving it. _Ann texted u, didn’t she?_

_She did_. He replies after a few moments of silence on the other end. _Asked me 2 check in w/u. R u sure there’s nothing I can do 2 help?_

_Please don’t worry_. She bites down on her lip as the grateful feeling of his silent support hits her. Despite being Ryuji’s best friend, he chose not to take sides and acted in the same kind, calm manner he always did. _U & Ann r 2 kind. I’m just in my head 2 much 2 think straight._

_Y don’t we do something fun then?_ He offers. _Anything u want 2 do?_

               She sits and stares at her phone for some time. Sitting home alone another day would drive her insane. Spending time alone with Akira might distract her, but she felt guilty knowing he was Ann’s boyfriend. She didn’t want to be _that_ girl.

_R u sure Ann won’t mind?_ She frets. _I don’t want her 2 think something was up._

_It was her idea._ Akira informs her. Makoto can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. No wonder he had been so willing to offer knowing he had the full consent of his partner. _So? What will it be?_

Makoto hums and drums her fingers on the surface of the table in her room for a few moments. _Would u go see a movie w/ me? In Shibuya?_

_The mafia one?_ Akira clarifies.

_Mhm._ She feels her cheeks burn. It seemed as though she was wan easier card to read than she thought. _Is that not ok?_

_No problem._ He reassures her. _11 AM?_

                _O_ _K._ She feels the weight on her chest lift a little. _C U then._

She should have known it was too easy. Too simple. Too right.

                A terrible, mocking feeling of knowing nothing went smoothly that she hated to admit existed as much as she dreaded seeing happen over and over in her life.

                Akira shoots her a text while she’s bobbing and weaving her way through the congested Shibuya crosswalks in hopes of reaching the movie theater in good time. He apologizes, obviously remorseful, that Futaba had had a panic attack and needed him to spend some time with her that morning. He wouldn’t make it to the movies but had sent someone they both knew to fill in for him.

                She wonders if it’s Ann, since the two had been in on the whole idea to cheer her up, and begins to scan the crowds lingering around the massive cinema for an odd blonde head sticking out. Which, in a crowd of usually dark-haired people, didn’t prove to be much of a problem.

                Only problem was, when she did find a familiar blond head of hair, it wasn’t Ann.

                 It was Ryuji.

                He has a hand rubbing absentmindedly at his neck as the other scrolls through something on his phone. The blond’s completely absorbed in whatever lit up his phone screen, which lets the girl take him in without him realizing it. Ryuji’s handsome. In the brightly colored tank, khaki shorts, and slightly tattered sneakers she had seen him wear a couple dozen times already, he didn’t look any different. And yet, he was an unfamiliar sight that made her chest ache, knees wobble, and heart palpitate all at once.

                She tightens a hand on the strap of her plain purse and lets out a polite cough to alert him that she was here. He jerks his head up, eyes wide, but the look of shock to be caught off-guard clears almost as quickly as it had formed. His own eyes sweep over her, and Makoto tries not to frown as she realizes how her basic romper and gladiator sandals must have appeared.

                “’Sup.” He says very awkwardly.

                “Hey.” She sounds just as uncomfortable. “I suppose Akira called you.”

                He scuffs his shoe against the pavement and nods once. “Yeah. Thought I might tolerate a flick with ya more than Yusuke.”

                “Oh.” Her whole face tightens. The way he worded it made it feel like it had all been a hassle on his behalf. That he wouldn’t have agreed had anyone else been inclined to take his place. “Forgive me. If this was too much of an inconvenience for you, you didn’t need to accept.”

                He shrugs. “Kinda too late for that now. ‘sides, kinda like action films, so not a total chore. Speakin’ of films,” He checks the time on his phone then looks over at the cinema. “Next showin’s bout to start. Should probably head in, y’know, and get a seat.”

                It’s mortifying when the ticket attendant thinks they’re a couple and only asks Ryuji for the total amount of both tickets. The guys says nothing, pays the amount, and stuffs the money Makoto offers to him once they’re inside with a little more force than necessary. She says nothing and watches him tromp off to the correct cinema room from her spot a few steps behind him.

                They take a seat at the front row of the second level, smack dab in the middle. The theater is crowded, but too badly. Western films were always popular, especially in the summer when the heat gave more of an excuse to retreat into the air-conditioned safety of the cinema for a few hours. But despite the crowd, Makoto feels alone- like she had come by herself despite the fact that Ryuji was sitting just beside her.

                He makes it very clear that he doesn’t want to be bothered as he slumps over on the armrest on the side she’s not sitting on and scrolls with an almost irritable sweep of his thumb from one screen to another probably in search of something to occupy his time until the film starts. Makoto watches him for a moment and looks away. She merely stares into her lap, chin dipped and shoulders drooped, until the whole theater dims and the previews begin.

                She finds it hard to focus on the bright, loud cinematography even when the rare treat of going out to watch a movie would have had her eyes plastered to the screen from start to finish. Her focus is instead on the guy less than a foot to her right, slumped in his chair, watching the previews with as much enthusiasm as she was. It was clear Ryuji would rather be elsewhere. That he was gritting his teeth and doing this because he probably pitied her.

                The movie trailer glitches, there’s an odd noise coming from overhead, and all of a sudden, the theater goes pitch black. A few people shout, obviously upset for the interruption, but Makoto’s childhood fears of dark rooms and dangerous monsters lingering in human skin jump to life and shoot her out of her seat and practically onto Ryuji’s lap. He starts, sputtering a nasty curse, but quiets when his brute shove to the girl only makes her cling to him even more than before with a half-panicked babble about the sudden blackout.

                “Makoto?” He murmurs in her ear. “Are ya ok?”

                “They’ll come back on, right?” She panics. “The lights?”

                His chest heaves as he releases a half-concerned sound. “Course they will. Probably some effin’ technical difficulty they’ll get fixed quick.” He smooths a hand over her back and one to cradle the back of her head as she presses her nose into the crook of his neck. “Ya really are afraid of the dark, aren’t ya?”

                She says nothing, wishing for nothing more than to be somewhere brightly lit where the shadows could always easily be seen.

                It takes a few minutes, but the speakers overhead calmly apologize for the inconvenience and the large screen bursts to life with opening credits to the film. Makoto slowly undoes her almost deathly hold on Ryuji, blinks as the sudden light floods her once tightly shut eyes, and awkwardly shifts back into her seat as the boy also uncomfortably ends his once consoling hold on her. She’s burning red. And from Ryuji’s fidgeting cutting into the corner of her vision, she has a feeling he’s not much better off.

                After a few minutes of shifting her eyes everywhere but the guy beside her, Makoto finally finds herself able to watch the film. Half an hour later, she’s completely absorbed, hanging off the edge of her seat with a variety of emotions sweeping unrestrained across her face as the dark, action-packed film often turns the streets red with blood. By the end she’s reeling, so lost in the world of secret gangs, uncover missions, and decade old grudges that she really feels like she’s been inducted into the mafia herself.

                “Pretty good flick.” Ryuji comments with an amused tilt to his voice when they exit the theater. “Though from the way y’were watchin’ it, I’m sure ya agree.”

                Makoto blushes deeply. “Was I really that engaged?”

                He snorts. “Engaged would probably be puttin’ it lightly. Hell, I thought, given a chance, ya might’ve jumped into the movie yourself to give ‘em all a good ass whoopin'.”

                “I tend to get easily absorbed in things.” She admits a little hesitantly. “Particularly movies or books where you truly can lost in the worlds they conjured.”

                “No shit.” He laughs. “Ya should’ve seen yourself. I think I had more fun watchin’ ya than actually watchin’ the damn movie itself.”

                They both fall into an uncomfortable silence as they exit the cool building and out into the blinding, hot sun beating down on the streets of Shibuya with its sweltering heat. Ryuji curses, squinting at the influx of light, and fishes his phone out of his pocket. Makoto watches him scan some alert on the screen, only to slam it back with an oddly angry look pinching his face.

                “Sorry, gotta go.” He scans the crowd and gestures in the direction of the central street. “Y’know, wouldn’t want people thinkin’ this was a date or some crazy shit like that.”

                Makoto’s heart plummets. Was that the whole reason he was upset? She tries not to frown. The alerts might have been texts from one of the others. Maybe Ann really hadn’t given up on pestering him into admitting what he felt about her despite promising to not do just that.

                “Of course.” She accepts the wall building back between them with a barely formed sentence. “Thank you. For putting up with me when you didn’t have to.”

                He nods briskly and scuffs his shoe on the pavement. “No prob. Just helpin’ out when I can. See ya.”

                And he blends into the bustling crowd, lost to her as much as ever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you as always to all of you read (ahem, suffering) through another "toy with my emotions" chapter from yours truly. Please stay tuned! There's more to come, I promise ;)


	9. Storm

                School returns, and while the familiar routine puts Makoto a little at ease, the comfort is quickly passing. When she's left alone with her hurricane of thoughts, she’s still a nervous wreck. A terrible mess that she couldn't straighten of her own accord as much as she desperately wished to.

                The third years are weighed down with the reality of the futures of adulthood, and her perhaps more than most. Sei’s been unrelenting recently, lecturing her almost nonstop about the importance of her scores on entrance exams, sparkling letters of recommendation from her superiors, and having a clear cut path always before her. Makoto’s sick. Sick of being forced to follow someone else’s orders. Sick of being this model figurine everyone could sculpt, move, and manage as they wanted. Sick of being the one left behind in the shadows.

                Did anyone ever care about what _she_ wanted?

                The answer is a startling no the more she dwells on it. And the more she dwells on all the unfair situations cropping up in her life, the more her anger swells. Nothing was going right. Not with school, not with the Phantom thieves, and definitely not with Ryuji.

                And it seemed like it was only her luck that things could only get worse from then on.

                She finds herself oddly calm when one of the second-year teachers stops her in the hall literally the first week back to school. The class president and student council member was used to being asked to complete odd tasks for all the faculty, but it seems the request she had now was the most far-fetched of them all. The school wanted her and a few other third years to act in their place on the school trip abroad to Hawaii when they were forced to remain behind for interrogation following their principle’s sudden and mysterious death.

                A terrible tragedy she and the other thieves knew tied directly into the Metaverse and the mysterious workings of it they were no sooner to cracking than they had been several weeks before.

                The girl knows she has no choice but to accept, and while the teacher is delighted, she’s anything but. Sure, she would get to spend time in a beautiful foreign place, not to mention be with Ann and Akira, but she might also have to spend time with Ryuji. Up until now, she had almost gotten used to the invisible wall of space he forced between them. But the stress of having to juggle that with everything else just made it all a tiring, taxing chore she had her hand forced into.

                The couple’s obviously delighted when she breaks the news to them the evening they all meet up at Leblanc for a meeting, but Ryuji’s as unaffected as anyone could be in the situation. He’s been oddly boorish as of late, demeaning Morgana to the point that if the cat and him even passed their eyes over one another, it felt like a fight might break out any moment. It’s clear he’s wound tight. Not that she cares. He’d hurt her enough too. And she was desperately trying to let go of this love that was a taste of hell than it ever was heaven.

                And of course, it was her also all in her terrible luck to have the trip abroad line up with her menstrual cycle that threatened to turn her into the third volcano on the island of Oahu if things kept going the way that they were.

                Still, she tells herself to focus on the bright side, as dim and almost nonexistent as it was. Hawaii was a beautiful place. The Americans’ loud and indifferent attitudes were oddly comforting despite being foreign. It was easy to get lost here in the place where the sky and sea seemed to go on in perfect harmony for as far as the eye could see.

                The whole chaperoning ordeal turns out to be more of keeping a careful eye monitoring whichever group of second years they had been assigned to than parading around like a glorified babysitter. Thank the stars that it had been Ann and Akira's homeroom teacher who had asked her personally to take her place, and she finds herself spending her time in their company solely. It feels right to fit in with them. After all, she hadn’t and never would fit in with anyone else.

                Ryuji only joins them during free time, though it’s clear his obnoxious, jack-ass comments are starting to irritate everyone. Ann warns him that if he says one more thing about tan, racked hotties as far as the eye could see, she’d kick him into the road and be happy if someone ran him over so he would finally shut up. Even the usually calm Akira frowns at his best friend and tells him to have fun on his own when he puffs his chest and boasts that he could hit on any girl he wants literally in Makoto’s face.

                And when he disappears off with a barely consenting Mishima as his wing-man, Makoto’s had more than enough and bursts into an ugly, embarrassing fit of tears.

                “Oh my god.” Ann whispers in horror as she stands stunned by the sudden emotional explosion. She rips the sunhat off her fair head, plops it onto Makoto’s instead, and wraps an arm around her shoulders and rubs the other with some vigor. “Akira, give her your shirt. Let’s get her out of the sun and somewhere quiet so she can calm down without people staring.”

                Makoto knows its childish. Improper. Mortifying. But god, she couldn’t stop. The harder she tried to grit her teeth and stop the torrent of teardrops, the harder they fell.

                The pair stands in front of the brunette once they’ve found a quiet spot someway down the beach and give her the silent respect and space to calm herself. It takes some time. When the emotions calm, another wave comes up from the barely formed equilibrium to wreck her again. She hates Ryuji. She hates herself. All she wanted to do was forget- forget all the feelings that were trying to control her and be the emotionless bitch people always assumed she was.

                “I’m going to kick his ass.” Ann grits her teeth, light green eyes burning as she looks at her boyfriend. “And you better not stop me.”

                Akira shrugs. “I’ll hold him still for you.”

                “Stop.” Makoto smooths her hands over her puffy, inflamed face and sighs. “Please. Both of you. I’ve already made a fool of myself once. Just leave him be. If he wants to be a dick, let him. Let’s stop deluding ourselves with ever thinking I could be his type.”

                “Makoto…” Ann says with obvious sympathy.

                She stands to her feet and hands the couple back the articles of clothing they’d given her to block her from the sun’s maddening rays as they relocated her in the sobbing state she had been in. “I’m sorry. You two should go enjoy yourselves. It’s a once in a lifetime trip you shouldn’t be wasting on an emotionally unstable, unqualified chaperone like me.”

                “Don’t say that.” Akira reassures her, his dark eyes concerned beneath his glasses. “You’ve been under so much stress. A lot of it due to us. We’ve been expecting too much from you and we’re just now realizing it. I’m sorry.”

                She shakes her head slowly. “No. I’m the one who’s sorry. This… this shouldn’t break me. I’m just tired.” She can only manage a small, painful smile. “Perhaps its best if I just return to the hotel and rest in that case.”

                The pair won’t take no for an answer when they demand to escort her back. Makoto feels a mixture of sadness and amazement as they stand on either side of her, so concerned that they didn’t say a word even though she was sure they would once she was out of sight. Ann gives her a hug at the entrance of the grand building of the western hotel they were staying in, promises to be back to grab her for dinner, and finally lets go when the brunette mumbles her thanks into her shoulder.

                 Makoto just lays in the darkened silence of her hotel room, staring into nothingness for what feels like forever. Her roommate comes back, notes her moping state of being, and quickly changes to leave the room in a few minutes flat. She frowns. Everyone was walking on eggshells all thanks to her. She had to get out of this rut. She had to.

                Ann comes by like she promised, but when she sees Makoto’s still exhausted features, she just comments that she’d bring her something to eat instead. And with the blonde gone, she just lays back in bed, finally exhausted enough from the events of the day to fall asleep. And all her dreams are ugly reminders of the unsolved stressors in her life.

                One of which, laughingly enough, comes rapping impatiently at the door of her hotel room and wakes her from her terrible nightmare to instead enter another one.

                She stumbles to the door and cracks it open to meet Ryuji’s emotionless mask.

                “Sorry.” He says after seeing her exhausted features. “Were ya sleepin’?”

                “It’s alright.” She informs him blankly, too tired to actually care whether she came off as cold or rude. “Did you need something from me?”

                “Huh?” He blinks, only to frown. “Nah. Not me. Stupid Ann shoved this into my hands and told me to bring this to ya.” He wedges the small bag of food in the gap for her to take. “Her and Akira are so effin’ off tonight. Seriously. It was unbelievable. She almost slugged me in the restaurant in front of a buncha people and he just sat there watchin’ her bitch at me nonstop without buttin’ in once.”

                Makoto’s face tightens. “You probably deserved it.”

                “Huh?” The look on his face darkens. “The hell did ya say?”

                “You heard me.” She opens the door all the way now so she can stand nose to nose with him. “We’ve all had it up to here with you, Ryuji, as of late. You’ve overstepped lines of respect and honestly, common sense. Though I’m afraid with your constant brainless behavior it isn’t hard to understand why.”

                And in an instant, the silent hall becomes a battle field beneath their feet.

                “What the _fuck_ ,” He snarls, eyes blurred with anger. “Did ya call me?”

                “Brainless.” She echoes dead-pan, only to quirk an irritated eyebrow when his whole body trembles with rage. “Oh? Are you angry? Good. Because that’s the easiest one to swallow out of all the things I want to say to you. You arrogant self-absorbed dick. Do you not hear yourself? All day _girls with racks_ this and _can’t understand why a hottie doesn’t want to get with a guy like me_ that. Are looks all that matter to you? Have you never heard of physical attraction syndrome? No, I wouldn’t put it past you to have read anything that scientific. Let me paraphrase it for you then. Just because someone’s hot doesn’t make them a good person or god, someone who would make a good match for you!” Her eyes burn with angry tears. “But you wouldn’t care, would you? You’ll stick by that stereotype until your virgin ass gets some! Hotties.” She laughs bitterly. “When you look at me, it’s clear that I’m the image of the exact girl you’d _never_ be attracted to. Hm? I got it right didn’t I?”

                “Ya don’t know shit about me!” He shouts, so loud and sharp it feels like he’s slapped her. But Makoto stands her ground, eyes cool as he finally erupts. “So what? I’m a dude and damn, _excuse_ me for being attracted to things I can’t help but be attracted to! But that’s not all that’s all on my mind! And it sure as hell ain’t the main thing either!”

                “No? Then what is?”

                “You!” He blasts the confession without thinking, only to take in a sudden intake of panicked breath as that one word booms in the silence. “Shit.” He curses, taking a step back as he cradles his head in his hands. “ _Shit_. I-“ He looks up at the ceiling and releases a trembling breath. After a moment, a self-loathing chuckle softly bursts from his pursed lips. “Whatever. What does it even matter? I know you’re going to laugh, so just do it already.” He screws his eyes shut and looks as though he’s waiting for a terrible impact to hit him from some invisible entity. “I said do it, Makoto! Laugh your damn ass off!”

                She doesn’t laugh. She doesn’t say a single word. She just waits as his tense form expecting the worse slowly uncoils until he’s just standing there with his eyes on the floor. And when he finally finds the courage to lift them to look at her, all she can do is restrain her tears and hold her weary gaze steady on his own.

                “If you even knew me at all,” She murmurs. “You would know that laughing is the last thing I wanted to do when hearing you confess your feelings to me.” She looks away when his slack-jaw look of disbelief craters another monstrous hole in her wounded heart. “But I guess we both really don’t know anything about one another.”

                He just stands there in a daze for a few more moments. “Makoto, I-” He takes a step forward, and she takes one backwards while shutting the door between them. “Wait. Hold up a sec. Whaddya mean-”

                “Goodnight, Ryuji.” Her voice trembles with a mixture of terrible feelings as she shuts the door and clicks the lock. “It’s best if you just go.”

                He doesn’t beg with her. Doesn’t stamp his feet and curse at her to open the door again. After what feels like forever, she hears his footsteps thud down the hallway, and he’s gone. Gone with her heart after leaving his own bleeding one on the other side for her to take had she just been courageous enough to speak up as easily about her love for him as she had her loathing for his actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs into view gasping for air* MADE IT. Phew. Almost thought I would not be able to keep my weekly update going. Happy to have made it and managed to celebrate a birthday too. I hope you all have enjoyed your weekend so far too. Until next time!


	10. Honesty

 

  
                Fall comes without much of a change to Tokyo save for the slightly lowering temperatures and a return to the winter uniform for the students. Makoto can’t decide if she’s excited for school to only be in for a few months longer or if she dreads the end of a very familiar routine. She’s too tired to really care anymore.

                The Phantom Thieves are as busy as they’ve ever been. A new target has been chosen, this one as large and powerful as they got. And in the mix of things, Mona had left the group, rejoined with yet another member who happened to not only be a third year just like her but the daughter of the target himself. Haru’s sweet, thoughtful, but not so dainty to be tossed aside as someone who only needed to be protected. She makes a perfect addition to their rag-tag team and helps keep everyone in line so no one ever felt left behind or under appreciated. Her kind heart was no stranger to Makoto and in a short time Haru became the first friend her age she had had since probably preschool.

                And on top of all this, entrance exams still loomed in the distance quickly approaching. Makoto spends her days not infiltrating the palace fulfilling her student council duties, studying in the library, or more often than she liked to admit it, juts hiding away in the quiet solitude of the council room trying to sort out the million thoughts tangled in an undo-able knot inside her head every moment of every day- even when she slept.

                Though she can’t say all of her dreams are nightmares. While most are, the rare few that weren’t remind her of what she could have had. Ryuji’s face makes her chest ache and her heart bleed that she had let him slip through her fingers. He had loved her. But he had been afraid. Afraid of being mocked. Afraid of not being good enough, or perhaps smart enough, to stand by her side as her boyfriend. And she had just said nothing, hoping he’s muster some of that courage he always seemed to have excess of to just talk to her alone and work it all out for the better.

                But he had stayed just as uncomfortably silent as she did in the days following their unfortunate outburst in Hawaii. His eyes always fell to the ground if the two of them had the odd moment of running into each other with someone else around, and she usually just continued on, eyes straight ahead, knowing that if she faltered, she’d cave. And while she did love him, she needed him to be the one to break this wall between them.

                Which proved to be an infuriating notion almost as possible as unraveling the mysteries of the Metaverse.

                And while she had been hopeful at first, she grows despondent then angry at herself for believing him possible of showing that level of weakness. And as time ticks onward with them in this standstill of sorts, she's so weary of even wasting her energy thinking any further on the subject for another moment longer. What had been done couldn't be undone. She just had to accept she and Ryuji would never be and forces herself to spend her energy on more productive activities than pining and lamenting on a love that her melted her steely resolve to never give her heart away as easily as she had to him. 

                A knock comes to the council room one oddly warm afternoon. She’s been sitting in silence, staring blankly at the window filtering in a steady stream of orange light as she drummed her fingers to some unknown rhythm. She thinks it might just have been her imagination, but when another knock comes, a good deal louder than the first, she jolts upright in her chair and stammers for whoever was on the other side to enter.

                The chair she’s been sitting in topples over to the floor when she shoots onto her feet the moment she lays eyes on Ryuji.

                He looks like someone had given him a good punch to the face and probably a kick to the stomach too. His blond hair is disheveled, his uniform scuffed with streaks of dirt and there’s even a vivid footprint left on his dark blazer. A stream of blood dribbles from the corner of his lips, but despite what was sure to be a sharp, stinging pain, he lifts them to offer a tiny smile. She can’t return the expression.

                “Oh my god.” She breathes, eyes so wide it feels like they might pop out of her skull. “What happened to you?”

                He shrugs nonchalantly and rubs a finger under his nose that has a pool of dried blood beneath it. “I’ll tell ya in a sec. Got a first aid kit in here, yeah? Can I use it?”

                “S-sure.” She stammers, hurrying over to the cabinet where it was held. “Sit down.”

                She pulls a chair up to the one he’s sitting in and gestures for him to look straight at her. Her frown deepens as the various minor injuries get tallied. It wasn’t as bad as it could have been, but god, seeing him obviously beat up sent her stomach into a panicked mess. Her heart too.

                “So?” She offers into the silence as she begins to sterilize the wounds. “Aren’t you going to tell me how you ended up in such a state?”

                He winces when she dabs the antiseptic-soaked cotton ball over a wound on his hand. “ _Shit_. I promise ya I didn’t go looking for it.” He makes a face when she gives him a look that reassures him that she isn’t inclined to believe that last statement. “I’m serious. The new adviser to the track team’s a serious piece of shit and I was just warnin’ the guys not to give into his plot to use ‘em all to have his ass promoted.”

                “Did you have any proof to support such a claim?”

                He snorts, only to curse again as his nose makes an ugly noise from all the caked blood pushing up against it. “Course I did. Akira and I snooped on him. Managed to get audio evidence of him boastin’ bout the whole thing over dinner with some of his buddies.”

                She discards the bloody cotton ball and repeats the cycle of soaking a new one for the wounds on his other hand. “If that was the case, why did they beat you up?”

                “Heh.” He chuckles mirthlessly. “Ya and I both know I had an beatin’ comin’ from a bunch of people. Not to mention I told ‘em they could give me a good punch or two if it’d make them feel better. So in all fairness, I saw it comin’.”

                “Oh.” She purses her lips. Well, he had been a huge ass lately. And she knew the others had all been thinking about slugging him at least once in the last few months if not more. “Well, I don’t support violence as a means of sorting out disputes. We should all talk among ourselves and try to come to some sort of consensus like civilized people.”

                “Riiiiight.” He drawls, clearly unamused by her stoic response. “Come on, Makoto. Just admit that ya wanted to punch me too. After all,” His voice softens. “I was the biggest jerk to ya out of everybody.”

                She glances up at his honestly apologetic features then back down to her work cleaning his wounds. “You were quite the ass.”

                “See? Then go ahead.” He leans back and shuts his eyes. “Sock me good. Add one more blow to my shitty lookin’ face. I won’t blame ya.”

                She frowns. “Punching you is the last thing I want to do.”

                “Yeah?” He asks curiously. “Then what do ya want to do? Kick me? Slap me?”

                “I want to _kiss_ you, moron.” She grumbles, only to burn with a deep heat from the honest, but uncensored, confession.

                “Shit.” Ryuji mutters under his breath. Makoto glances up to see him watching her with his fearful, open look that signals how off-guard she caught him. After a moment, he smiles lightly. “Probably would have let ya, if I wasn’t bleedin’ from the mouth and all.”

                She just burns crimson and dips her head back to supervise her work. The atmosphere’s shifted. The air between them was so light it felt like a blanket of darkness several kilos heavy was blown away instantaneously. After what had happened in Hawaii, she had figured it would just never lift. But now that it was gone, she didn’t find herself relieved. If anything, she was even more panicked that what had remained unspoken between them would now have to be said.

                “Makoto?”

                “Hm?” She’s soaking the cotton ball for his face but looks up once she’s ready to take up the worst of the wounds littered there. His eyes just hold this emotion she can’t put a name to. “What is it?”

                “About what happened… y’know back in Hawaii,” He stumbles to a halt and looks down at his feet. She dabs softly at the wounds on his cheek before stopping to sit quietly as he tried to find the words. “That was a shit show.”

                She hums in agreement. “It was.”

                He says nothing in following. She dabs the cotton swab under his nose, scrubbing lightly, only to have him screw his eyes shut as what was sure to be a violent wave of pain cut over him. She just watches him with her heart in her throat. So close, and yet, so far. All he had to do was leap. All he had to do was finish this conversation and it’d finally be behind them.

                “You’re a moron.” She whispers. “You know that, don’t you?”

                He frowns. “Yeah. I’m the biggest effin’ moron on the face of the planet.”

                “Maybe not that big,” She informs him while gesturing for him to sit still. He relaxes a bit in his chair and their knees touch. “But I’m glad to hear you admit it yourself.”

                She dabs the antiseptic cautiously on the corner of his mouth, and he hisses as it seeped into the sensitive muscle. “I’m a damn mess.”

                “You always were.” She reminds him softly. “And that’s just fine by me.”

                He’s looking at her now. Really looking at her. Those dark eyes look so lonesome. So weary. Like he was tired of fighting against himself and everyone else in the world too.

                “I like ya.” He finally says, so soft she thinks it could have only been her imagination. After all, she had dreamed it a couple hundred times since falling in love with him. But when she sees the almost puppy-like pleading in his eyes begging her to take him seriously she knows it’s really come out of his mouth. “I really like ya, Makoto.”  

                She leans back in her chair, takes in a deep inhale and exhale, then looks at him wearily. “You have a very strange way of showing it.”

                “I didn’t know what else to do.” He confesses sadly. “I just wanted to be around ya, but I didn’t want anyone knowin’. Feelin’ that way got me so damn paranoid. I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt ya.”

                “Well, what’s happened has happened.” She sighs and gives him a slow look over. “As long as you promise to never act in such a manner again.”

                He pouts. “Trust me. Wouldn’t dare unless I want my ass handed to me.”

                “See? Maybe you’re not as big of a moron as you think you are.” She smiles in humor when he slumps over grumbling something under his breath. “There’s some sense to you after all.”

                They sit in silence for some time. Makoto knows sitting quietly will only madden her even more so she begins to carefully place bandages over the wounds that needed them. Ryuji just sits and lets her do what she needs until she’s placed the last tiny adhesive on the wound on his cheek. He takes both of her hands in his once she’s sat back down and just rubs his calloused thumbs over her hand in this intimately slow sweeping moments that make her insides quiver and her knees turn to jelly.

                “Thanks.” The way he speaks that one word of gratitude reassures her that he really meant it from the core of his being. “For listenin’. And patchin’ me up too.”

                She shakes her head slowly. “No need for thanks. I, um, hope you know I do this because I want to. B-because I…” She stumbles to form the word. “I like you too.”

                He lets go of her hands and they sit in an embarrassed silence. She’s blushing and has a feeling he is too. Not that she would dare look. Confessing such a mountain-sized truth and knowing he felt it as well flustered her like nothing else. Did that mean they were dating? Or not quite? She’d never had a boyfriend before, let alone been romantically interested in someone. The whole nuance of these things made her as inexperienced and naive as anyone could be.

                “Well,” He drawls into the silence before standing to his feet. “Probably should get goin’.” He extends a hand down to her. “Ya comin’ with?”

                She puts her hand in his and trembles when his fingers close over it to keep a secure hold on her. “Of course. Let’s go.”

                Ryuji lets go as they amble through the school and in the train station, though only for the sake of perhaps keeping as many possible bystanders from Shujin in the dark for the change in the dynamics of their relationship. Makoto’s too happy to care. It was a little too surreal. Her, falling in love, and on top of that, having the person she loved loving her back. She’s never been this giddy. Never.

                And she was afraid, with the way everything was going, that this was only foreshadowing some terrible thing yet to come.

                It’s hard to feel afraid when Ryuji takes her hand in his and keeps pace with her along the quieter streets of the suburban area they’re traversing through. He’s oddly quiet, but something about the sudden silence on his end isn’t unnerving or unpleasant. While he might have been labeled a loudmouth, rebel, or vulgar boy by a majority of the school, Makoto had always known he’d been more than that. Like in these soft moments where he just took everything in, eyes sparkling, looking like a little kid who believed in that there was still good to be found in this ugly, ravaged world.

                “M’kay.” He slows to a halt at an intersection nearing the modern high rise of apartment buildings where Makoto lived. “Guess this is it.”

                She tries not to frown when his hand releases its hold on her own. “I suppose. Thank you for walking me this far. That was very kind of you.”

                “Nah. It’s only right.” He gives a lopsided grin that sends her heart-rate galloping in half a second. Despite being bloodied and bruised, she couldn’t deny that she thought he was the most handsome guy on the face of the planet. “Considerin’ all we talked about before. I feel like a hundred-kilo weight was lifted from my chest. Don’t ya agree?”

                She wants to agree. Oh gods, how easy it would be to simply ignore the ugly mess of unanswered questions and terrible dread scenarios she foresaw happening the deeper their group delved into the Metaverse and the larger the fame of the already infamous Phantom Thieves grew to and look at the world through rose colored glasses. And as much as she claimed to be a dreamer- as much as she claimed to love him- it didn’t change the tangled web the pair of them, along with their precious teammates, had so willingly fallen in.

                “Makoto?” Ryuji gives her a concerned look. “What’s wrong?”

                She frowns. “I’m sorry. All these thoughts in my head just won’t let me be happy, as much as I want to be.”

                He wraps an arm around her shoulders and brings her in close. “Ya worry too much. We got this. Nothin’ bad’s gonna happen. Not to any of us, and especially not to ya. I’m not gonna let anything hurt ya, Makoto.” Her whole body warms as the fiercely protective statement is softly murmured in her ear. “This time, I’m gonna be the one who protects ya.”

                She hums softly in agreement. “Thank you.”

                “Believe me when I say it’s my pleasure.” He reassures her with a slight bounce to his words. And she doesn’t doubt him. Not in the slightest.

                The hug ends once the tender connection melts to something awkward and unspoken. Ryuji rubs at the back of his neck, scuffs his sneaker against the surface of the cement sidewalk, looking as sheepishly uncomfortable as Makoto felt deep down. Her cheeks were burning. Her heart hammering. What was supposed to happen next? Did they just say goodbye and let this relationship no longer defined by friendship but not distinctly marked as a romantic connection continue in this odd in-between? Or did he kiss her, promise to call her later, and play the part of the dutiful boyfriend she’d always seen in romantic dramas?    

                “Well,” He drawls awkwardly in the silence that seems to have stretched painfully close to an eternity between them. Se glances up to see him smiling lightly. “Guess I’ll get goin’. I’ll text ya when I get back home.”

                “Alright.” She can’t help but offer a small smile in return. “Please be careful.”

                He nods once. “Sure thing.”

                His stare lingers on her face, this time a little more brazen, and takes a slow few steps towards her to press a kiss to her cheek like a preschool crush might. The innocence of it is so unlike the rough, passionate kiss she’d always expected he’d offer, and it catches her completely off-guard. He pulls back slowly, burning a deep shade of red, only to crack a toothy grin that must have been from the giddy adrenaline being able to manage attempting to kiss her brought. And then he takes off running like a bullet down the street, whooping some undecipherable comment loudly into the air like the out-of-the-box guy he was.

                “What a dork.” Makoto giggles to herself.

                 But she can’t help but be thankful that he was finally hers, dorky and all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There! Finally where they're supposed to be, right? I hope that put your poor little shipper hearts at rest. And while you finally have some good news, here is a little bad: I will need to go on a short hiatus of shorts. Money's tough and I'll be working some overtime for the next couple of weeks. Hopefully all of you understand and give Celeste a little time to get herself back in order haha. Until we meet next everyone!


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